Vanquished

by Nancy Holder

  The evil, whatever magick it was that Lucifer was conjuring, was palpable. It seemed to rise like fog around his ankles, then his knees, then his thighs. Something was creeping up toward his mouth, and he knew that if it got inside him, he would be damned again—possibly forever. In a frenzy of horror he flailed and struggled.

  And then the right manacle detached from its chain. With the handcuff still around his wrist he grabbed the chain attached to his left manacle and pulled down as hard as he could.

  It, too, gave way.

  Antonio was so weak that he fell to his knees. He pushed himself back up, lurching forward, then staggering to the cell door. He thought he would have to force it open, but a swift push against it and he was out.

  A sense of doom wrapped around him like a shroud. He shivered, moving forward on his bare feet.

  “Vampire,” a voice called softly. It was the scientist Michael Sherman.

  Antonio crossed to his cell door and peered through the slat. Sherman was in bad shape.

  “I’m here,” Antonio told him.

  “It worked,” Sherman said. Slowly he raised his head, and Antonio saw that they had pulled out his fangs. “My virus worked. My handler’s in the next cell,” he added.

  Antonio moved to the third cell. A man he didn’t recognize was staring at the door. He remembered the name Lucifer had spoken: Greg Bassingwaite. Was this the same Greg that Jenn had told him about?

  “What’s going on?” Antonio said.

  “Setup,” Greg slurred. “Project Crusade.”

  Antonio opened the door. He grabbed the man around the torso and broke first one chain, then another. Hoisting the man over his shoulder, he left the cell. Then he opened Sherman’s.

  “No,” Sherman said weakly. “I just want it to be over.” He shook his head. “It would work. I ran so many tests.” He looked up at Antonio. “I think they planned this. Project Crusade.” He jerked his head at Greg. “Why move to Romania? Why so close to this castle? So Lucifer would find us. And he would think the virus didn’t work.”

  Antonio cocked his head. What he was saying made sense.

  “I think the Allies have the virus,” Sherman concluded. “And I think they’re going to release it tonight. Wipe us out.”

  Antonio listened hard. “Why wait?”

  “There are two major parts to the virus. They have to be mixed together. I made a batch, but it wasn’t perfect. But I figured out the exact specifications for each part. Then we moved to Romania. Maybe they had two different people smuggle out the components and they haven’t brought them together yet.”

  “And you think they let Lucifer break into the lab?” Antonio had thought it was weird that Noah had been able to break in. Granted, he was Mossad, but if he, Antonio, had been creating the ultimate weapon, he would have made it nearly impossible to infiltrate his base of operations.

  On Antonio’s back, Greg groaned. “No. Looked promising. Didn’t . . . work,” he said. “Noah Geller . . .”

  “They convinced you of that,” Sherman said to them both. “Because if you got captured, you couldn’t reveal the truth. They took my research and made the virus somewhere else. I just know they did. Because I was right.”

  “Come with us. You can help,” Antonio insisted.

  “Help?” Sherman’s eyes glowed crimson. He hissed at Antonio. “I don’t want to help. I want to die.”

  There was a loud boom, and the castle shook around them. Pieces of wood and stone cascaded from above, and Antonio ducked back into Greg’s cell to protect him.

  He heard screaming. Through all the hours being locked inside his cell, he had never heard anything like it. Lucifer was escalating the battle.

  The castle shook again. This time Antonio didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside. He charged out of the cell and ran for all he was worth.

  “Jenn,” he said. “My Jenn.”

  * * *

  The main door to the castle was too heavily protected, so Jenn and her group made it to a door on the second level. She positioned her submachine gun and lifted her hand to tell the others to get ready to fire, when a mortar hit the castle and the stairs beneath them gave way. The others screamed as they fell; Jenn flailed for the door latch and grabbed on with both hands, as her legs swung in midair hundreds of feet above the ground. She didn’t look as the members of her team fell to their deaths.

  Then she discovered there was a small portion of stairway left, somehow buttressed by timbers. She found purchase with one foot, and then the other, but she held on tight to the latch.

  “Jenn,” said a voice behind her. It was Solomon’s soldier, the one who had saved her when her eardrums had exploded. He was gripping an edge of the castle wall with his fingertips.

  His arm came around her and covered her hand on the door latch. She worried about their combined weight on the precarious perch.

  “Jenn,” he said again, and his voice was flat and emotionless. This time Jenn hazarded a glance. He was staring at her with the eyes of a madman. They were practically spinning.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” she asked shrilly.

  “Dantalion. He’s all around you. Look,” he said, gesturing with his head to the ground, far below.

  Jenn wasn’t going to look, but he was so insistent that she obeyed. She gasped at what she saw: Allied soldiers mowing down fellow Allied troops with Uzis, attacking with huge knives—and a werewolf flinging itself at Holgar’s ally, Viorica. Blood sprayed everywhere.

  “Dantalion orders you to look,” said the soldier, grabbing Jenn’s chin and jerking her head upward. On the balcony above her, Dantalion spread wide his arms. Beside him vampires in black robes decorated with red bats stretched their arms forward too, and a thick, black smoke streamed from their fingertips.

  And what the soldier said next chilled her blood. “Hail, Dantalion. I will kill your enemy.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The final battle is coming. I don’t know if I’ll live through it.

  Less than a year ago, I was just Jenn. Back home I’m not even old enough to drink, but now I’m leading the fight for humanity’s last stand. I’d say it’s too impossible to be real, but it’s too impossible that there are vampires . . . or a God in the sky who has let this happen. And yet.

  I’d be lying if I wrote that I’m not afraid to die. I’m terrified. I’m even more afraid that I’ll die without seeing Antonio one last time. Father Juan says we’re meant to be together, but I just don’t see how. Is there a life after this one? Can we be together then?

  Who can answer these questions for me? Where is Father Juan? Is he off praying for us, or has he abandoned us? And if I don’t believe, isn’t that the same thing?

  This journal was supposed to be a new Hunter’s Manual, for the Hunter who comes after me. But will I be the last of the hunters of Salamanca? If the vampires win, the fight must go on. If someone does succeed me, this is what I have to say to you: There are things worth fighting for. And dying for. If you find yourself in a battle like mine, kill as many of the enemy as you can. But if you don’t live in a world like this, then use your life to heal and repair the world, so that hell never comes to earth again.

  I love you, Antonio de la Cruz. I will always love you.

  —From the diary of Jenn Leitner,

  retrieved from the ruins

  CASTLE BRAN

  THE ALLIES AND THEIR ENEMIES

  As Antonio set Greg down in the courtyard, he saw Jenn fall. She was a dot on a black horizon that shimmered purple and red with enemy magicks and lightning bolts that stabbed the earth and set it on fire.

  But he saw her fall, arms and legs flailing. He heard her scream. It tore his heart out of his chest.

  It broke his soul into pieces.

  She landed on an outstretched evergreen limb that broke her fall, and he shouted so loudly his voice echoed.

  And then she fell again.

  “Jenn!” he roared, breaking into a run. “Jenn, land on your feet!�
�� He willed her to live through it, praying as he ran.

  Maybe she heard him. Maybe she didn’t.

  But she didn’t land on her feet. She landed on her back, on the unyielding stone of the courtyard. And then she bounced.

  “No!” he screamed. “No!”

  He could see her blood pooling and running over the stones, and one leg lay crookedly beneath her. He raced to her, dying a thousand times.

  Falling to his knees, he stared in disbelief. His God could not let this be real; the Blessed Mother would whisper in the ear of Her Son to perform a miracle.

  Jenn lay still as death.

  Antonio placed his shaking hand on her chest. Her heart was barely beating. She must have drunk the elixir; otherwise she would surely be dead. Panic surged through him.

  He made the sign of the cross over her, and then over himself. “No. Te lo ruego.” No. I beg you. Antonio pleaded with God.

  “Skye! Brujas!” he yelled, calling for the witches to come and heal her, save her.

  Jenn’s heartbeat was slower still, barely beating. Only a creature with enhanced senses would be able to tell she was still alive.

  “Father, please, please,” he whispered. “Please.”

  There was only silence.

  * * *

  “Look,” Heather said, pointing at the courtyard from the balcony. Antonio de la Cruz was bent over someone on the ground. From where Heather stood, it looked almost as though he were feeding. “Antonio escaped!”

  Lucifer grunted. “I’m not surprised. He’s a magnificent vampire. What a waste.” He looked at Dantalion. “Mesmerize him. Tell him to kill whoever that is.”

  Dantalion showed his fangs as he nodded to indicate that he’d heard. At his side his vampiric dog chuffed and whined.

  “Easily done,” he confirmed. Then he closed his eyes. “Antonio,” he whispered, as softly as if he were murmuring in Antonio’s ear. “Antonio de la Cruz.”

  Antonio’s back stiffened. Then Heather saw who Antonio was going to kill.

  “It’s Jenn! My sister,” she cried. She burst into peals of laughter. “I have to go watch this. I have to be there. Please, Lucifer?”

  Lucifer kissed the top of her head, and then her cheek, and then her lips. She kissed him back, ardently, because she had learned very quickly that that was how to get what she wanted from him.

  “We should convert Jennifer Leitner,” Dantalion said. “The final irony.”

  “Yes!” Heather cried. She kissed Lucifer again. “Please?”

  “Do it,” Lucifer said to Dantalion. Go on, then,” he told Heather. “But be careful. I’ll watch from here.”

  Heather kissed Lucifer one more time and left in a blur. She didn’t want to miss a moment of her sister’s conversion.

  She ran downstairs, leaping entire sections in her excitement. Then, when she was almost at the courtyard, she came to a halt. What was she thinking? She didn’t want Jenn to become a vampire. Jenn was the older sister, the smart one, the brave one. The one who got to do everything. The one who left home to become a hunter while she, Heather, stayed at home.

  She’s the one who didn’t save me.

  Aurora held me prisoner for weeks, and Jenn didn’t come. She doesn’t deserve to become a vampire. But if I stop Antonio, will Lucifer be angry at me?

  Another explosion from somewhere deep in the castle shook the ground, throwing her headlong down a flight of stone steps. It hurt, but it was fun, like a ride at Disneyland. She pulled herself up to her feet, glancing over the side of the staircase . . . and blinked.

  Her parents were huddled together behind a pile of rubble. Her father was shielding her mother as magickal bat shapes flapped around their heads. Without another thought, Heather leaped off the stairs and landed beside them.

  “Oh, my God,” her father said, his hands dropping from around her mom. Heather’s mother went white at the sight of her, and her knees buckled. Without realizing what she was doing, Heather caught her, and her mother’s arms went around her.

  Now she’ll freak, Heather thought, amused and yet somehow very nervous. But there was no need to worry about what they thought of her. These people weren’t “hers” anymore. They were humans. She had moved on. And besides, they had let her down very, very badly. Her father most of all.

  She hated her father.

  “Come, look,” she said, tugging at her mother’s hand as Leslie Leitner burst into sobs.

  “You’re all right,” her mom said hoarsely.

  No, I’m not, Heather thought, but then she realized that of course her mom was right. In fact she was better than all right. She was a vampire.

  She tugged her mother along. Her father—to whom she hadn’t spoken—ran behind, trying to catch up. Heather remembered that humans couldn’t move very quickly. She didn’t want to drag her mother to death—she wanted her to see the fun!—so she slowed to what felt like a snail’s pace.

  “You’ll like this, Daddy,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s what you always wanted.”

  CASTLE BRAN

  THE SURVIVORS

  In their werewolf forms, Holgar and Viorica herded Skye away from the fighting. She had lost her radio, and this had been the fastest way to reach her. Holgar could tell that Skye didn’t know what they wanted, but by his yips and soft growls he tried to make her understand that it was important. Skye’s crown of mirrors reflected the explosions of mortar shells against the castle wall. In the glittering squares he watched himself and Viorica transforming into their human shapes. They were wearing clothes, and Holgar smiled proudly at Skye as he completed his change.

  Then his smile faded as Viorica spoke to him in Russian.

  “It’s time,” Viorica said. “We have to do it now.”

  Viorica reached into the jacket of her parka and pulled out a vial containing an amber liquid. Holgar did the same, except the liquid in his vial was blue.

  “Crikey, Holgar, what’s going on?” Skye asked. “I thought I heard Antonio, and now you’re here, and—”

  “Antonio’s here?” Holgar asked, stricken. His stomach clenched. Holgar was ready to do what had to be done, including knowingly causing the death of a teammate and someone he had come to love like a brother—Antonio. But it was the most difficult part of what he had pledged himself to do, and it would be all the harder if he had to watch Antonio die.

  “This is the virus,” Holgar said to Skye in English. “It comes in two parts. Viorica told me about it when she came to see me on my sickbed. She hid one of the vials in the monastery for me to find. She kept the other.”

  Viorica nodded. “Tell her that the lab your Noah infiltrated was a decoy. That I have been working for the black crosses for a long time, and they got the vials to me shortly before you were shot,” she said to Holgar, again in Russian.

  Holgar translated. Skye covered her mouth with both hands, then threw her arms around Holgar and kissed him hard on the lips. “You’re going to save the world!” she cried.

  “Help. Help me, now.” Holgar heard the distant voice of Antonio de la Cruz. He was there. Holgar’s heart sank, even in the midst of humanity’s triumph.

  “Skye,” Holgar said. “I hear Antonio. He needs help.” He squinted up at the castle. “But I don’t think he’s in there.” He looked around and pointed toward the southern perimeter of the courtyard. “That way, I think.”

  Skye swallowed hard and took Holgar’s hand in hers. “You mustn’t hesitate, Holgar. You know Antonio wants the virus to be unleashed.”

  “For helvede,” Holgar whispered.

  Then a young girl raced up to Skye and tugged on her arm. Her face was ashen, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Skye, Skye!” she cried, in an English accent. “A man named Antonio sent me to find you. Jenn is hurt. She’s dying!”

  “What?” Holgar cried. He swayed, and Viorica shot out a hand to steady him.

  “Goddess,” Skye said, looking from the girl to Holgar. “Show me.”

  Th
e two took off running.

  “No,” Holgar said, his heart skipping beats. “Not Jenn.” In his distress he began to change into wolf form.

  “Easy, easy,” Viorica said in Russian, grabbing the vial of blue liquid from him. “What’s going on?”

  He whimpered and forced his change to stop. He and Viorica had promised to remain in human form after she had handed off the vial to him. They had also agreed to stick together and back each other up. In case something happened to one of them, the other one could mix the two parts of the virus together.

  “Viorica, Jenn’s been wounded. She may be . . . may be dying. Wait, please. I’ll be right back.”

  “Holgar, no!” Viorica shouted.

  Running, he easily closed up the distance between Skye and the little girl, and himself. He began to change again. Then he realized what he was doing. He had a mission, and it wasn’t to save Jenn. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he said to Skye, “Viorica and I will move downwind. We’ll mix the compound there. It will give you time to work healing magicks on Jenn. Then Jenn and Antonio might have a few minutes before . . .” He trailed off, suddenly unable to bear what it was he must do. “But once we open the vials, the virus will spread like wildfire.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Holgar.” Then she raced on. Holgar quickly doubled back to Viorica.

  * * *

  “Gather as many witches as you can,” Skye said through her tears to Autumn. But be careful, luv. I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

  “I won’t fail you,” Autumn said fervently. She let Skye run ahead as she darted toward a group of witches battling a vampire.

  Then Skye rushed toward four people gathering around a prone figure. She recognized Antonio’s profile, and behind him Jenn’s parents and Heather? On high alert, Skye started to call Holgar for help, but she knew he had to stay with Viorica. Fighting down her horror, she scanned the courtyard for other familiar faces. There was fighting everywhere—humans covered in blood as vampires tore out their throats, bodies piling up. She realized that every second Holgar and Viorica delayed, human lives were being lost.