Retaliation (The Boris Chronicles Book 2)

by Paul C. Middleton

  He saw four head for Janna. Poor decision. With her training, six may not have been enough, but when one dropped to half-dozen steady cracks from Paul’s rifle, he knew she would be fine. There was not a werebear he knew of that couldn’t take at least three wolves. Not anymore.

  The mental mist moved closer to him at an increased speed as he ripped the long hilted gladius from its sheath and let loose an unearthly roar. One of the remaining wolves lunged for his throat. He caught it in the air with his free paw and crushed its chest, throwing the body as hard and far as he could. In the background, he heard the steady distinct cracks of Paul’s Steyr AUG over the sounds of other combat. The sharp snaps of grenades detonating filled his ears, while the smells of the battlefield, of blood and ruptured bowels assaulted his nose. The stink of shit and urine from the inexperienced combat troops who hadn’t known to make appropriate actions before the battle lent a sour note to the odor of wet dog and human.

  The stink of old blood coming from in front of him got stronger.. Apparently his fight with the first Were to attack him had made the remaining wolf and Konrad more cautious.

  Suddenly, Boris felt a sharp burning in the back of his neck. Swearing as the combined aroma of leopard and human reached his nose, he realized that the existence of the werecat among Konrad’s forces had been mentioned in the interrogation of the vampire’s officer.

  Where he had found one willing to serve with him, the fates only knew. Boris reached one hand back and grabbed the far smaller Were by the scruff of the neck. Pulling hard, the cat was forced to choose between losing a large chunk of skin and flesh, or loosening its grip on him. It opted to let go. He swung his arm and sent it flying through the air.

  Janna was having no problem with the three wolves left to attack her. One had tried to hamstring her early on in the fight before the others were in position. She had quickly spun around and bitten its head clean off in a bloodlust she had not felt before. This was new to her and she found it exhilarating. She quickly spun back around to face the other two. They tried to split her attention by circling in opposite directions, but she had trained against this tactic and feinted towards one. As soon as it leaped backward, she turned to maul the other with her claws as it rushed in to hamstring her. The last wolf grasped the danger it was in too late. Paul had drawn a bead on the exposed head, and the werewolf went down with a pair of bullets through the skull.

  She heard a roar of pain from Boris, followed shortly by a snarl from some large cat. She turned to see Paul go down with a grunt and a groan as the cat eviscerated his belly through his armor. Shards of useless protection ripped, almost exploding into the air, but he managed to stay conscious and focused enough to pull his .50 caliber revolver. There were five thunderous blasts as he emptied it into the leopard.

  Something tore inside Janna as she saw Paul collapse in front of her, barely breathing, and blood trickling down Boris’s back. Her love was severely injured, and her friend was down. As that something broke, a great rage filled her, and her body changed. Transforming into a form about which she had been cautioned, Janna turned, filled with the strength, rage, and power of this new shape. Uninjured, she charged the werecat that was limping on three legs. It tried to flee, but her paw-hand slammed down on its skull, crushing it beneath her retribution, her sorrow. The body fell limply to the earth, slight twitches causing shudders and a small semblance of life as it succumbed to death. She turned and saw Paul struggling with one of the nanite needles as one of the nearby soldiers came to his aid. There was nothing more she could do , but avenge his pain on as many of the NVG as she could find.

  She had seen a broken rib sticking out of his chest and his gaping belly wound. It did not seem likely he would survive. Even with the nanites in his body, they were not the miracle he needed.

  That he was still conscious was.

  That made her decision to rejoin the fight easy. She just needed to kill as many of these Zmei Gorinichi pizda as she could. Two of the Weres who had been shot seemed to have removed the silver buckshot from their wounds. Moving before they could avoid her, she knocked one of them to the ground and pounded it with her foot as she reached for the other. Grabbing the second, she dragged it to her mouth, ignoring its futile struggles, ripped its head off, chewed, and swallowed.

  The two remaining injured beasts froze in terror and stopped trying to remove the silver. They started to hobble off away from her as fast as they could. Boris was frightening, but his eyes showed control. All they could see in her eyes was incandescent rage. Fury at what had happened in this battle perhaps, but also an anger at what these pizda had been trying to do to her country. Her wrath had finally exploded from the confines she had placed around it and boiled to the surface in a geyser of blood and pain.

  She waded into the combat, ignoring bullet hits time and again, as she stalked like a bestial goddess of nature through the NVG troopers. Realizing that their fire was useless, many of them tried to flee. They were not fast enough. Rather than the lumbering gait one would expect from such a large creature, she moved with a startling light-footed grace and speed.

  Even Boris’s forces found it disconcerting. Seeing what had to be a thousand kilograms of a cross between a bear and a human was disturbing. Seeing it move with the grace of a dancer and the fury of a mother bear defending her cubs was downright terrifying.

  Even for those likely to fall in the cub category.

  Boris kept his focus on Konrad. A moment of distraction may be all that this man needed to kill or critically injure him. While he heard her roar and her form crossed his vision, he cursed internally. That slight distraction was all that Konrad had needed. He felt a slight burn across his leg as a knife dug in. He mauled the vampire’s shoulder, but he could not afford to trade blow for blow with a vampire. Michael had taught him that.

  With the pain he had caused Konrad, the mist dropped. He could clearly see that he had only hit the vampire with a half dozen shots on one leg. Without the same weakness against silver as a Were, that was barely a scratch. Although Boris’s wounds were healing, he was now at a disadvantage. He still faced off against an uninjured Were and Konrad.

  “Why diiid youuu attaccck my people, Konrrrad?” he growled out.

  Konrad smiled viciously and purred, “Why not? All these humans are cattle, are they not? Can’t you see that? Are you that blind? They had a reputation I could use to gather support. A shame you intervened.”

  Boris responded with a scowl “Cattllle? Nooo Konrrrad, they are People. Indiiiivvviduuuals. Not Playthiiings. Not Cattllle. Cattlle cannot figgght back. Evvven if we trriied to taake charrge we would faiil. What we belong asss isss Guarrrdians. Not rrulerrs.”

  “That is a philosophy that will get you killed one of these days, old Bear. You are not strong enough to protect them from me. I turned my brothers, they were weaker than I. David turned me. You will find me far superior to them.”

  “Perrrhaaps,” Boris responded calmly.

  At this moment, perhaps thinking the conversation had distracted him, the Were lunged for Boris’ leg. A flick of the blade in his hand sent the wolf’s head rolling. The rest of the wolf continued into Boris with a wet thump. It didn’t even budge him. The vampire, perhaps hoping the Were had distracted Boris in turn, charged. He drove one clawed hand toward the bear’s guts and the other at the neck. Boris batted the lower attack away with the sword, slicing into Konrad’s flesh. The Werebear grabbed and held the other hand, crushing it in his fist. The crackle of shattering bones was loud in the air, as pain crossed Konrad’s face. Boris hurled him away as Konrad’s other hand reached for his neck.

  Konrad somersaulted in the air to land on his feet. He felt concern, as the hunger rose in him, greater than he had felt for years. Hearing the whine of one of the injured wolves just behind him, the vampire reached out with his still functional hand and grabbed it. He bit down into its neck and drank deeply. The surge of energy and returning feeling to his injured hand heartened him. He could sti
ll win this, even though Boris was far stronger than he had expected.

  For a short time, the two combatants tested each other, feinting and dodging, but Boris grew bored with this. He now had the measure of the man and knew that he could take him down the next time the circling action was reversed.

  Konrad didn’t even see the blow that landed on his shoulder as he changed his direction of movement. The blow drove him to his knees, and he felt the snap of his shoulder breaking under the force. Another blow landed on his side, crushing his ribcage. His eyes flashed red as the hunger consumed him. The vampire barely managed to evade Boris’ blow but managed to grab the Were’s arm as it went past. He turned, and reflexively bit down on Boris’ wrist and drank, desperate for the blood within and the energy it would give him.

  It would be the last mistake he would make. Boris’s free hand reached out, grabbed the vampire’s neck and snapped it. His other arm, still dripping some blood, grabbed the hair on Konrad’s head. Reaching down he picked up his short sword and swung it in a deadly arc, cleanly decapitating Konrad.

  With a fierce bellow, he proclaimed his victory. At the sound of another monster on the field, the remaining NVG broke, to be slaughtered by their ambushers.

  Boris turned to look at Paul. Two of his medics were working on the sorely wounded man but when one of them glanced up he shook his head slightly. It did not look good. Tired and bleeding, Boris lumbered over to his friend.

  One of the medics looked at him and whispered, “We’ve already given him two doses of nanites. He’s stable now, but I don’t see him staying that way. The wound across the stomach isn’t healing fast enough. And we are out of doses with all the other casualties. We’ve picked out all the ceramic fragments and cleaned it but…”

  Boris thought carefully. If Janna was here, between them, they might be able to give him enough of their blood to get him to a pod, and Bethany Anne’s medical unit. But she was in a rage. Until she wore it out, it was not likely that she would return. He thought to Janna, Please come back. Paul needs you!

  He was completely stunned when he heard a response. What? Who is this?

  He concentrated again, Janna, it’s Boris. We might be able to save Paul, but I need you here.

  The silence was his only answer.

  Soon afterward, he felt the ground shuddering slightly as she pounded back to where they had started the battle.

  He held Paul’s hand, saying, “Stay with me old friend.”

  He heard a mumbled response, “No’ goin’ anywhere boss. ‘Lecta would ‘ill me.”

  Boris made an anguished decision. Placing his still-healing wrist near Paul’s mouth, he ripped the scab off and let the blood flow. Positioning his arm so that the blood dribbled into Paul’s mouth, Boris said, “Drink, old friend. You’ll feel better.” Paul drank deeply and lapsed into unconsciousness.

  Janna looked at what Boris had done and grabbed a knife between a thumb and index finger. Carefully, she cut her wrist and dripped the blood across the gut wound. With the broken bone injuries already straightened and probably healing, the gaping stomach wound was the only logical place for her to help.

  Over the next half hour, Paul’s breathing strengthened. His stomach wound sealed and seemed to be healing at an accelerated rate.

  Looking up, Boris saw Bethany Anne approaching with Ashur dogging her steps, on the lookout for unknown danger. “Why didn’t you ask for air support earlier, you walking fur coat? We could have taken out the entire column…”

  “And perhaps compromised any chance of a positive relationship with Russia. If that had happened, the Russian civilian deaths would be far more than we lost today? We have what, a hundred or so dead on our side?” He apparently did not think the NVG dead counted in this equation. In truth, they didn’t. Either way, they would have died.

  “You would have ended up killing far more than that in Russia’s military. Those men gladly gave their lives to prevent that. I do have one request, though.” He pointed to Paul. “Please, take him to your medical device. And have Alecta near him when he wakes. We had to give him much of our blood to save him, and I fear the potential consequences for him.“

  Bethany Anne glanced at Paul and muttered loud enough them them to hear, “You antiquated excuse for a ambulatory, moth-eaten bear rug! Of course.” She walked over to Paul, put one hand on him, the other reaching for Ashur, and all three of them disappeared.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Near NVG Base Omega, Russia.

  The fleeing and broken men fled the combat, trying to put the frightening battlefield behind them. The Spartans wisely chose not to block the routed force since it outnumbered them heavily, and because the panicked soldiers showed no signs of regrouping. Instead, Boris’ new allies moved aside and merely observed, making sure that no officer was attempting to rally a return.

  Personal interviews with some of Boris’ vampire allies had convinced the Spartans that they had some idea of what might cause these men to flee. After talking to Boris, they felt prepared for the appearance of his ‘other form.' It was still a large shock when a seven-and-a-half-foot tall human-bear hybrid emerged with deadly grace from the woods. Especially when it was not Boris, but Janna. Even knowing that the monster drawn from their childhood nightmares was on their side did not lessen the awe or reduce the fear.

  They were glad when she turned back to the main battlefield.

  Evgeni was getting used to the first name and rank that Boris preferred. He turned to Sergeant Yosif, and said, “I’ve never felt relief at an ally leaving before.” Yosif only shrugged.

  “Better on our side than theirs, sir,” he replied laconically. “Sir, should we move back to the observation positions? Or move up towards the base? There are several abandoned trucks we could use as transport if we wanted, but if we overtake those sorry bastards they might try something.

  “Never seen anyone flee so hard before, not even those poor pizda slavers we ambushed last year. The ones whose slaves started castrating the wounded.”

  “On foot, I think, Yosif. There is no significant advantage for us in taking the trucks. Inform Danislav of the movement and our plans since he said something about supporting us after the main action.”

  The sergeant started barking orders in rapid succession and within a couple of minutes, the Spartans were moving out. Evgeni was proud of how quickly his men responded and formed up. They had given him their best, and he was determined to be worthy of their loyalty.

  **************************************************************

  Boris was exhausted. He’d spent the last ten minutes teaching Janna a calming exercise when she declined to change back to human in case she needed the power and ferocity of her current form to assault the base.

  Don’t lose yourself my love. I could not bear the pain of that, he thought quietly to her.

  I won’t. I wonder why we can talk to each other this way, though, she replied.

  That she was showing curiosity was a good sign. When the rage took over, all a person thought about was violence and the hunger.

  You need to stay here, Boris. You’ve received enough wounds today. I only got a few nicks from lucky bullets. You were mauled quite badly.

  Boris could feel the concern behind her thoughts. He waved her off. Don’t mother me. You’re too young to do it convincingly. Take those willing to go with you, I will follow behind once the injured are loaded.

  He felt her smile like a soft brush on his mind, and she was gone. Janna had changed her focus to the mission, moving on to further action and battle. His acceptance and confidence in her strength provided him a small moment of joy before he turned his thoughts back to war.

  About four hundred men had volunteered to assault the base if Danislav deemed it worth the risk. Boris’ adopted son was still annoyed at having missed the big fight, but had been partially placated by the command of the base assault force. It helped his attitude that one of the drones had caught the battle on camera so anyone that
wanted could watch the action later. Boris was quite sure it would be popular viewing by many.