by Leji Albano
Doors were opening along the hallway, and every time Alexander saw a head or torso, he put a bullet in it. Screams and roars of outrage could be heard, and a grim smile graced his face as he could taste their terror. He crossed the hall and kicked open the next door. A bullet struck his shoulder, throwing his balance off, but he still managed to plunge his sword into the stomach of the vampire who had shot him. Alexander ejected the empty mag and reloaded, leaving the blade jutting out of his latest victim. His hand reached out to the hilt and jerked it from the body as he double-tapped the wailing man, who slipped off the longsword.
The next room was empty, but the fourth suite held a male and a female. He shot the man as he leapt at him, but he realized he didn’t have time to line up a shot on the woman. His blade severed one of her arms at the shoulder, her shriek as the sword passed through her flesh sounding loud in the confines of the bedroom. Her momentum carried her past, and the blade flicked out again, this time taking a leg. She collapsed in the doorway, and Alexander gazed down dispassionately as her lifeblood pumped out of the stumps. He stepped over her thrashing body and went from room to room, dispatching every person he came across. Some tried to fight back, some tried to run, but in the end, they all died. Standing at the top of the stairwell at the other end of the long hallway, he realized he was out of bullets. Holstering the pistol, he took stock of his injuries. Most were minor, and the few that weren’t mattered little, there would be sufficient time to finish this battle.
His feet did not hesitate as he sauntered down the stairs. He could hear many more vampires still alive on the lower levels, and he fully intended to remedy that situation. At the bottom of the stairs he glanced at the front entryway, and he could see a few extra bodies scattered both in and outside the doors. Alexander nodded in satisfaction, realizing that Enzo and his team were doing their jobs.
He turned toward the back of the house and started walking, dragging the tip of the bloodied blade along behind him. The shrill scraping sound the sword made as he continued forward let the remaining vampires know precisely where he was, and that was fine with him. The house opened up as his footsteps took him deeper into the ground-floor. He was ambushed as he walked into the kitchen and received a deep slash across his upper back. His head swiveled to his attacker, the longsword lashing out to sever the hand holding the blade that had just cut him. He stabbed into the torso at a slight upward angle, piercing the heart, the power of the thrust lifting the body into the air where he held it, muscles bulging in his sword-arm. He examined the vampire's face almost curiously before withdrawing the blade with a flourish. Alexander was already in motion once again before the corpse hit the floor.
There was little of the conscious Alexander left by this point. Bloodlust had taken hold. He had become a killing machine that mercilessly stalked his prey, seeking them out wherever they might hide. The clothes he had borrowed were terribly rent, barely clinging in shreds to his body, and covered in gore, some of it his own. And none of that mattered. Death had come calling, and he was making himself at home.
His nose lifted into the air, seeking prey. Once again dragging the tip of the sword behind him, his steps took him through another doorway. The sound of bullets impacting the wall beside him, and the fleshier splat of the round that hit his thigh, indicated that there were still those who would seek to block his way.
Alexander charged forward, ignoring the pain from his leg, and slid on his knees below the firing arc of the SMG wielded by his enemy. His sword described a short arc that severed the feet of the vampire who was shooting at him. There was a cry of agony and the thud of a body hitting the floor behind him. Still on his knees, the Alpha wolf looked over his shoulder to find the vampire struggling to stanch the blood that was fountaining from the stumps where his ankles used to be. He stood up and backhanded the blade, nearly severing the head completely, but just enough remained that when gravity forced it backward, it was still attached by nothing more than skin.
A stairwell leading down beckoned him—more prey hid there, and he could sense their fear. He made no attempt to muffle the sound his feet made on the steps as he walked down them. His heavy tread was impending doom, as inevitable as the stormy surf on a rocky shore. Whimpers and tremulous whispers echoed up from below.
Alexander gazed upon twenty-five or thirty vampires who were cowering against the far wall, children among them. He paused, tried to brush back a lock of hair that kept falling over his burning eyes, but it was so encrusted with blood and other more unspeakable things that it refused to stay put. The shoe on his injured leg squelched with each movement, his blood pooling there with every step he had taken.
His lips curled in a snarl and his body tensed in preparation for one last burst of effort, but a familiar voice stopped him.
“Alexander, no. You have to stop.”
He glared over his shoulder, madness in his eyes. “Why are you here? My wrath is righteous, Cat. These vermin have taken from me. Taken the only thing that has mattered in a very long time.”
She sighed deeply. “Yes. Some of them did, but not all. Let the killing stop now. Let what you have done be enough.”
“Why do you care, Cat? How do you suggest I separate the guilty from the innocent? This very Coven tried to drive you out, kill you even, more than sixty years ago. That’s how we met, remember? You are Outcast.” He flicked his fingers dismissively.
“I have never forgotten, Alexander. Even so, you would destroy them all?”
The madness in his eyes did little to reassure her. “Why not? They mean nothing to me.”
Her hand rose placatingly. “Tina yet lives. I believe she will survive the transformation.”
He inhaled sharply. “But at what cost, Cat? She never asked for this, didn’t even know about us. I have made her a monster…just like me.”
“Alexander, please. Let it be enough.”
His eyes glanced over her head to where Enzo stood, his pistol pointed at the back of Caterina’s skull. A minimal shake of his head caused his Beta to lower his weapon.
“Fine. I do this because you ask it of me.” He spun and threw the sword like a spear; the tip entered the chest of one of the vampires at the rear of the room, not stopping until the hilt slammed against the breastbone. The figure dropped to its knees, coughing up blood. Those around him backed away quickly, leaving a clear space.
“That is the one who fed off her. You finish him.” Alexander’s baleful gaze reached out to every surviving vampire. “This Coven belongs to you from this moment forward. It is now your responsibility to ensure I never have to return, because if I do, I will slaughter every vampire in this city. Understood?”
She nodded, squared her shoulders, walked over to grasp the hilt protruding from the figure kneeling in front of her, and twisted it sharply, destroying the heart within. Cat withdrew the blade and cleaned it the best she could on the clothes the corpse was wearing, then walked back to where Alexander and Enzo stood, handing him the blood-covered hilt.
Alexander dipped his head in acknowledgment, then reached out and grasped her shoulder, staining her shirt with the fluids that covered his palm. “You lead this Coven, but you are also one of my Betas now, Cat.”
Enzo sucked in a breath, surprised by this pronouncement.
“Don’t fuck it up.” He swept past her and limped up the stairs, leaving her to clean up this mess.
Enzo looked at her guardedly. “That man frightens me, Signorina.”
A laughing sob escaped her. “That man should frighten everyone.”
She moved closer and whispered, “Let me rephrase my statement. Anyone who breaks his rules, moral code, or harms innocents, would be better served to cut their own throat. He does not tolerate fools, nor does Alexander believe that there is any such thing as overkill.”
“Si, I am beginning to understand that.”
16
“…The years between 1925 and the outbreak of WWII were spent mostly in the Middle East and Egypt. I use
d the money and properties that I had ‘acquired’ when I cleansed Spokane of its unwanted elements to finance several expeditions to dig at various sites. I particularly found Mohenjo-daro to be of interest. Even though I found no trace of the alien technology I was searching for, there were indications in the glassy layer found in the ruins that it was probably destroyed in a continuation of the wars that had been taking place for thousands of years prior to recorded history, possibly by a nuclear device. My intuition told me that there was a link between this culture and the Anunna…somehow….”
An excerpt from the diary of Alexander Matthews
March 1916, Central Mexico
Alexander pushed sweat-drenched hair out of his eyes and plopped down into the camp chair, frustration evident in his actions. He had spent the last nine months slogging through the jungle and examining what little had been excavated of the various cultures who had called this area home. Many days and nights of speaking with tribal elders and shamans had provided very little actionable data, and in truth, about all he could say for sure was that all the cultures shared a belief in the Feathered Serpent—Quetzalcoatl to the Aztecs, and Kukulkan to the Maya.
While interesting in and of itself, it did little to solidify his search for traces of the Anunna. He knew that they had been here, in the Americas, because En’s city had been in the Gulf of Mexico, somewhere off the coast of Texas. His memories couldn’t place the location any more precisely than that, but it was in that general geographic area. En’s enemy, the goddess Nin, had a city-state to the south, and his progenitor had attacked it at least once with an army that had traveled by ship to reach enemy territory.
Unfortunately, no trace of either city existed on dry land. His hope had been to find clear evidence that when the waters rose at the end of the last ice age, emigres had brought vestiges of their civilization with them when they moved farther inland, integrating into the more primitive peoples who lived there. Hints that they had done so existed in shared ritual beliefs, common pantheons, architectural styles, and other things…but no smoking bullet. To say that he was frustrated would be a colossal understatement.
He had decided to wrap the expedition up and go home. Alexander did not feel there was anything to be gained from staying longer. He would just have to look elsewhere….
Alexander limped up the stairs and made his way out to the semi-circular drive at the front of the villa. He sat gingerly on the top step and extended his wounded leg, waiting for Enzo and his crew to bring the van, adrenaline causing his hands to shake. Hanging his head tiredly, he attempted to calm the anger that still burned hotly in his chest. The Alpha knew this wasn’t finished, not even close. Alexander would need to spend some time in Naples, not only forging the remaining Pack and Coven members into a cohesive whole, something that went against thousands of years of tradition, but also rooting out the bad seeds that he knew still existed.
He wanted nothing more than to hand control over to his selected Betas, wash his hands of the whole mess, but knew this wasn’t fair to Enzo and Caterina. Neither was truly prepared for the leadership role he had thrust them into, but his options were limited. Alexander would stay long enough to establish control, shift most of the responsibilities onto their shoulders, and crush any resistance Pack or Coven members retained. Either complicitly, or through a serious lack of knowledge by their previous leadership, at least one member of each group, but probably more, had felt they could do whatever they wanted to, including feeding on and murdering Normal humans. This should never have been allowed as it not only put them all at risk, but it was fucking wrong.
Alexander had spent most of his extended life protecting the people of Spokane from just such atrocities. When he had first arrived in the early 1920s, it was a wild and raucous town. Vampires, Weres, and other varieties of engineered species did pretty much as they pleased. Each morning, horrifically murdered bodies would be discovered and reported to the weak and corrupt law enforcement. Alexander had been sickened by it all…so he decided to rectify the situation. Over the course of the next three years, he had cleaned the city up, either forcing the others out or killing them. There was resistance, of course, but his single-minded focus and iron will prevailed despite this. That was why today he was the Master of the city, and no one, either rogue or affiliated, was allowed into Spokane without his permission. If you could follow his rules—and this included no killing of Normal humans—then you would be granted permission to reside there. Failure to comply always resulted in death.
The larger metropolitan areas such as Seattle and Portland still occasionally tested his resolve, but never pushed things too far. The older members of the genetic underworld still remembered what he had done so long ago, and they wanted no part in provoking him to direct action against them or their membership. It just wasn’t worth the repercussions. And so, Spokane became a haven for outcasts, rogues, and those who just wanted to live their lives independently.
He was still musing on all of this when the van pulled to a stop just in front of where he sat. Enzo jumped out and hurried to the rear to open the doors for his Alpha. Alexander nodded his thanks as he stepped in and took a seat. When they had been on the road for a few minutes, he asked, “How did Cat get by your team, Enzo?”
To his credit, the Beta did not try to evade the question. “She knocked Giacomo out, Signore. I’m just thankful she did not take his life.”
Alexander nodded his head, a rueful smile on his face. “She’s a sneaky one. I trust further training for your team is forthcoming?”
Enzo glared at the offending team member. “Si, much more training.”
When they arrived back at the Pack villa, Alexander reluctantly allowed the in-house doctor to look at his already-healing wounds. He told her not to bother dressing them since he was just going to shower and crash into a bed anyway. The doctor was not thrilled by this, but apparently chose not to aggravate her new Alpha. Enzo tried to take the weapons Alexander had used in the raid on vampire central, but the flat look he received spoke volumes. Instead, he went to the armory and retrieved cleaning supplies and extra ammo, which Alexander took upstairs with him.
The doors to the Alpha quarters were closed, and when he threw them open, he immediately realized he was not alone. His eyes scanned the rooms until they rested on the obviously naked woman sitting up in the bed. He dumped the weapons and cleaning supplies onto a table and strode to the foot of the bed.
As he neared, she let the sheet slip, revealing her breasts. He snorted in disgust. “Why the fuck are you in my room? More importantly, why are you in my goddamned bed?”
“You are the Alpha. I am the Alpha female. Where else would I be?” she replied haughtily.
A threatening rumble emanated from his chest, and his still blood-stained hands clenched. “You are nothing.” He spat the words out. “I will give you three seconds to get out of my sight.”
“No. It is my right as the Alpha female. You are my mate, as it should be.”
Even before the last words were out of her mouth, he had grabbed her by the arm and was dragging her to the door. “Enzo!” he bellowed.
He heard loud footsteps clattering in the hall, then the doors opened, revealing his Beta and two of his TAC team.
Alexander pushed the naked figure at them. “Get her ass out of my sight. I don’t give a flying fuck where you stash her, but she is not allowed in these rooms. Clear?”
Enzo nodded almost imperceptibly to his team and they each grabbed an arm. She struggled and was cursing them out in Italian, but they retained their grip.
“Si, my Alpha. Shall I post a guard?”
“I leave that to your discretion.” He paused. “However, I need you rested when I wake up. We have much to discuss. Rotate your team and make sure everyone gets some downtime.”
Enzo simply nodded acceptance and gestured for the two men to lead the naked harpy away.
Closing the doors, Alexander went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He spread it ov
er the table in front of the chair and proceeded to break down the pistol. He noticed that it was an HK45 tactical, and he nodded in approval. His hands went through the motions of cleaning and oiling the parts, then reassembled the weapon and loaded a fresh magazine. Setting it aside for the moment, he reached for the longsword.
It took far longer to remove all of the accumulated gore from the blade and hilt. When he was satisfied, he realized the scabbard would require more attention than he could spare…. Sheathing a dirty blade is never a good idea. The steel itself had survived remarkably well considering the abuse he had given it. There were a few nicks that would have to be ground out, and the edge definitely needed honing, but overall it would do.
Placing the pistol under his pillow, and the blade standing upright next to the headboard, Alexander stripped off the filthy and shredded clothing that had stiffened as the blood dried. He tossed them onto the floor for later disposal, and padded in bare feet to the shower. He scrubbed himself thoroughly until the water almost ran clean; some of his wounds still bled after all, but there was nothing he could do about that. When he had toweled off, he crawled between the sheets and passed out.
17
“…Five thousand years after creating their first settlement, new colonies were springing up all over the globe, generally along coastlines. Initially, these were small, specialized communities that were either extracting resources only available in specific locations, or were splinter groups that wanted to distance themselves from the primary settlement. Cracks were beginning to appear in the Anunna society, and disagreements were becoming more common. The original colonists were still alive (those who hadn’t died in accidents or by other non-natural means) but had become fractured over policies and beliefs. No longer was leadership unified, and the disaffected generally moved to new locations with others of a like mind….”
