Walter had climbed down from his perch and walked up to Cole while keeping his rifle trained on the remaining bodyguard. “He’s right. There’s a bunch of cops headed this way. Whatever was distracting them before isn’t holding them back anymore.”
“And they will…find bodies,” Misonyk promised. “Here and…more in the years to come.”
Although still holding his head up, Misonyk was losing the strength to keep it there. Death wrapped its arms around him, starting at the spot where the antidote had entered the vein in his neck. A pale gray shadow spread throughout his body while draining the moisture from Misonyk’s skin. The thick black markings beneath the Nymar’s flesh dulled like paint left too long in the unforgiving elements. A faltering breath escaped Misonyk’s throat and the tendrils dwindled into thin, quivering lines.
Since he’d dropped the syringe and didn’t have another to replace it, Cole picked up his double-ended spear and faced the remaining Nymar.
The bodyguard stalked forward, but as his employer crumpled to the ground like a broken cement statue, he backed away from Cole so he could run into another section of the park.
Turning to Walter, Cole asked, “What’s going on with Paige?”
Walter had his rifle reloaded and against his shoulder. “There’s enough cop cars headed toward this park to form a parade,” he said while pointing his scope toward a part of town that had suddenly become very active. “Looks like they’re chasing someone. Aw, hell! Someone’s already firing back at them!” Placing a finger to his earpiece, he spoke in a quick rush. “Paige? Can you hear me?”
Henry held Paige against the garage in a way that prevented the other Nymar from getting to her. Then again, the other Nymar weren’t her main concern.
“Hungry,” Henry groaned as he sniffed the oily blood on her neck and the front of her jacket. “So…hungry.” With that, he slammed her even harder against the wall. His claws scraped against her torso and his teeth gnashed against her stomach in a flurry that peeled away the outer layers of body armor before getting to the thin layer of werewolf hide beneath it. The Half Breed fur absorbed some punishment from Henry’s attacks, but more of the impacts were getting through the heavy plates that lay against her body.
A voice drifted through Paige’s head that made her wonder if Henry was doing more damage than she’d originally thought. She slammed the side of one weapon against Henry’s temple in a blow that would have dropped most men. He reeled a bit from the impact but quickly recovered. When a freshly turned Nymar got bold enough to try and tear off a piece of Paige for himself, Henry slapped him away like he was swatting a fly. Paige took advantage of the small opening to deliver a blow to Henry’s other temple with her left weapon. It didn’t do any damage, but moved him back just enough for her to pull away and use her clubs.
The scent of Nymar blood was thick in the air as she used the sharpened ends to deliver one uppercut after another. Henry’s misshapen face swung back and forth like a speed bag but was tough enough to withstand her assault.
And then, like a gift from above, a bullet whipped through the air to tear off a chunk of Henry’s scalp. Backing up a few steps, Paige heard the sirens in the distance. She couldn’t see the flashing lights yet, which meant she still had a bit of time before adding the police to her laundry list of problems.
Henry’s torso swelled, and his ribs creaked outward to accommodate the swelling. He reared up and swung his loosely attached head to holler at Walter’s section of the park. When he started to turn toward Paige, she hopped sideways and then jumped forward with her left arm extended. The straight point of her left weapon dug into Henry’s skin, glanced off one rib, and tore a deep scratch into his side, which she used as a target for the sickle in her right hand. Her aim was true and the curved blade sank in almost a quarter of an inch.
Activity from the streets behind the parking structure was intensifying. Sirens blared, voices shouted over loudspeakers, and shots were fired.
Henry let out a pathetic whimper, took one limping step forward and then was hit in the side by another high-powered rifle round. That shot was followed by another, which dropped him to one knee. Paige circled around so she could get a look at Henry’s side without being in the line of fire. One more bullet whipped through the air and landed with a distinctive hiss as the round’s coating reacted with Henry’s Nymar-infested blood.
Paige took one of the syringes from her jacket pocket, popped off the cap and rushed toward Henry to give him the injection. When she slammed the syringe down on the wound, she felt the needle snap like brittle straw against him.
“All right,” she said as Henry snarled at the incoming sniper rounds. “Looks like I need to hit a softer spot.”
She dropped her left weapon back into its holster on her boot and focused her attention on the weapon in her right hand. Once the point of that stake was down to something close to a needle, she cocked it back, reached under her jacket at the small of her back, and twisted her body around in a tight circle. The lightning-fast movement snapped her arms around like whips. When her left hand emerged from beneath her jacket, it was wrapped around the handle of the Blood Blade. Her momentum allowed her to slice through the skin along Henry’s ribs and cut through several layers of hardened muscle. She drove her right arm forward to send the finely honed point of her stake directly into the deep wound she’d just made. Henry was already starting to heal, but Paige was just fast enough to drive the stake into the wound and bury it several inches between his ribs. From there, she closed her eyes and willed the impaled end of the weapon to split apart into three separate sections.
When Henry arched his back and let out a bellowing cry, Paige knew the weapon was doing its job. She could feel the petrified wood changing shape as if it was an extension of her own arm. While that should have been enough to bring Henry down, it was only adding fuel to his fire. She cocked her left arm back so she could do even more damage with the charmed blade. Before she could land the blow, however, the back of Henry’s fist caught her in the shoulder with enough power to knock her loose and pull the stake free. Because the stake had blossomed inside of him, however, it snagged muscle, tore flesh, and even chipped a few ribs on its way out.
For a moment Henry was dazed. He looked down at a hole in his side that was big enough to expose half his rib cage. A living flood of Nymar spore was spilling out of him. At least four of the slimy black things slipped out of his body, each one sending out gelatinous tendrils to grab hold of whatever they could to pull themselves back inside.
Paige grinned and retrieved the final syringe from her pocket. Closing her fist around the plastic tube, she buried the needle directly into one of the spores and jammed her thumb down on the plunger. The antidote was quickly absorbed by the Nymar spore, eating it from within and exploding outward to disperse the rest of the antidote among the remaining spores within Henry’s torso. One by one the spores sizzled and popped, until Henry’s entire system was exposed to the antidote.
For the next few seconds, Henry clawed at the ground and scraped at it with his feet. His mouth opened but he clamped it shut again and winced as the deadly process continued inside of him. When he lost the strength to hold himself up, he dropped to his belly and curled up so the hole in his side was facing the sky. The bulbous growths under his flesh had flattened to give his body a more familiar shape. And when the last Nymar within him was dead, the hole in Henry’s side began closing up. Already the blood flowing from him was losing its black, oily tint.
“Can you hear me, Paige?” It was the voice again. Now that she didn’t have an insane monster trying to rip her heart out, she could understand it a little better.
Touching her earpiece, she replied, “Yeah, Walter. We’ve got some cops headed our way.”
“I know. Misonyk’s dead, so get over here and we should be able to get out before things get too hot.”
“Great. Have you noticed what’s happening to Henry?”
After a slight pause,
Walter said, “Looks like you got him. Great!”
Paige shook her head and took a tentative step toward Henry. Although some of the Nymar were still near the garage, they backed away as well. In a few more seconds they turned and bolted from the area like dogs that reflexively knew when it was time to cut and run. “It looks like Cole was right,” she whispered. “Henry is a Full Blood. Now that the Nymar’s out of him, that’s all that’s left.”
“Then kill him!” Walter shouted. “Do your Skinner thing and finish him off. Whoever or whatever the cops are shooting at, they’ll be at the garage in—”
“I realize what’s happening, Walter! But there’s something else—” Suddenly, a burning pain scorched Paige’s palm. She pulled her hand away from the earpiece as if she’d accidentally touched an open flame. The Nymar in the vicinity had made the scars from her weapons itch as if there were ants crawling beneath her skin. Henry’s presence had caused a reaction that was distinctive but muddled. This, however, was something much more powerful. It was also something that she’d only rarely felt before.
“Paige?” Walter said in a cautious whisper through her earpiece. “Look at the roof of the garage.”
When she looked up, Paige spotted a hulking form crouched on the edge of the roof. It glared down at her with brilliant, glittering eyes and let out a low growl that rolled like thunder through the cold night air.
Chapter 26
“A Full Blood?” Cole said. “I thought those things stuck to the woods!”
Walter had his scope trained on the massive shape that had appeared at the edge of the garage roof. Its fur was so black that it was difficult for him to make out an exact shape, but the brilliant eyes and long, massive fangs were more than enough to stand out from the shadows. As it leaned forward to part its lips in a warning snarl, the creature’s shape became even more distinctive against the somewhat lighter background of the cement roof. Its head and movements were those of a giant wolf, but its upper body had the mass of a grizzly bear.
“It’s a Full Blood, all right,” Walter said. “A big one too. That’s probably what scared away the rest of those Nymar.”
“Shouldn’t you shoot it or something?”
“My ammunition is treated for use against Nymar. I’d only piss it off.”
“Do you have any Full Blood rounds?” Cole asked hopefully.
“There are no Full Blood rounds.”
“Aw, shit.”
“Yes,” Walter replied calmly. “I’d have to agree.” He tapped his earpiece and said, “You see it, Paige?”
“I see it,” she replied in a harsh whisper. “The Nymar saw it, and soon a whole lot of cops will see it too.”
“How’s your armor?” Walter asked.
Paige felt the shredded remains of her vest. Beneath the tattered outer layers, there were a few strands of fur attached to uneven ribbons of werewolf hide. “Just enough left to get me in trouble,” she said while removing the vest and tossing it, with the hope that the Full Blood didn’t already know she’d worn the skin of its distant brethren.
The Full Blood gripped the edge of the roof with thick, yellowed claws. Though it was hardly moving, it held on with more than enough strength to send pieces of broken cement clattering to the ground below. It slowly shifted its head to take in the sights with eyes that sparkled like two out of the millions of stars hanging motionless above it. Large pointed ears pricked up at the sound of approaching sirens.
From the corner of her eyes, Paige could see the flashing blue and red lights of police cars that rounded a corner and sped toward the parking structure. She didn’t see the solitary man that had been running ahead of the cars until his feet clapped against the cement path leading to the garage’s entrance. It was Edward, the third of Misonyk’s bodyguards. Unlike the previous times Paige or Cole had seen him, he now had his coat open to reveal several pistols and a few MAC-10s hanging from large rigs beneath both arms. Edward also had a small machine pistol in each hand and a wild look in his eyes as he quickly soaked up the carnage in front of the garage.
She didn’t need to read minds to know the gun-toting bodyguard wasn’t happy with what he saw. As soon as he spotted the dead Nymar strewn on the ground, Edward raised both guns to extract some payback. The fact that Paige was standing in the middle of all those bodies sparked a bit of fire in his eyes, but the sight of the Full Blood snarling at him from on high was enough to push him right over the edge.
Edward bared his teeth as all three sets of fangs extended from his jaws. He fired both guns in his hands and leapt for the parking structure’s second floor.
Letting out a quick, panting breath, the werewolf streaked along the top of the garage and practically flew off the side so he could collide with the Nymar in midair. The Full Blood hit the bodyguard in the chest with both front paws and sent Edward to the ground with a resounding thump. Even as the bodyguard’s spine snapped against the pavement, he emptied both of his weapons into the Full Blood’s chest. Teeth the size of dagger blades sunk into the Nymar’s shoulder, allowing the Full Blood to toss the bodyguard into the air with a snap of its head. The creature reared up on its hind legs while its body shifted to accommodate the new stance. Canine limbs became longer and more human, bringing him up to well over seven feet tall. Its front legs extended into massive arms just in time to swat the airborne bodyguard squarely in the chest. Edward flew away from the parking structure to land in the street within a few yards of the approaching police cars.
Tires screeched against the pavement. Police shouted to each other. A few cars nearly ran into Edward, who had yet to move after his rough landing. All the while, the Full Blood watched with the closest thing to a smile that his wide, tooth-filled mouth could manage. Turning to face the parking structure, he leaned forward and let out a roar that was filled with more than enough fury to scatter the few lingering Nymar in all directions.
Paige stood her ground and tightened her grip on her weapons, knowing all too well that trying to run from a Full Blood would do her as much good as flapping her arms after stepping off the side of a cliff.
The werewolf stared at her as strings of saliva dripped from fangs that had retracted but were still longer than her fingers. Even crouched over far enough to scrape his knuckles against the ground, it was several feet taller than her. Its long ears came up a bit as sections of its coal-black fur bristled from a passing breeze. Heavy, bellowing breaths quickened into a dog’s panting as the Full Blood twitched to look at a single figure that ran toward the garage instead of away from it.
Cole rushed to Paige’s side, brandishing his weapon in both hands. The closer he got to her and the Full Blood, the more he cringed at the fiery sensation that shot through the wounds where the weapon’s thorns had pierced his skin. “Jesus,” he muttered. When he realized what he was facing, his mind lost the ability to form any other word. “Jesus!” he said more sharply.
“O Holy Night,” The Full Blood mused in a voice that rumbled within its massive frame like thunder rolling over an empty prairie.
While Cole was dealing with the fact that the creature in front of him had just spoken, Paige leaned toward him and asked, “Is that the one that killed Gerald?”
“No,” Cole replied with a shake of his head. “That one was brown and…hell, I don’t even know if that helps.”
“It does,” Paige replied.
About a hundred yards to the north, where the park stopped and the rest of the town resumed, police cars were gathered around the Nymar that had been batted into the street. Officers went through the motions of stripping away Edward’s guns while trying to figure out how the hell he’d gotten there. The bodyguard must have had a spark of life in him, because he began to put up a fight before more gunshots crackled through the air.
The Full Blood’s eyes shifted in their sockets toward the commotion, but he didn’t seem overly concerned by it. The mass of its frame settled in on itself and his entire body shifted into a more compact form. Once he’d
taken a shape that was just over six feet tall and roughly that of a man, he focused all of his attention upon Paige and Cole. His heavily muscled body was still covered in black fur, but his snout had gotten a bit shorter and was marked with a spot of white close to his nose. With his ears pulled in tight against his scalp, the creature’s face had a definite canine quality, but its eyes were those of a man.
Slowly reaching for her earpiece, Paige said, “Hold your fire, Walter.”
The Full Blood nodded. “Smart call,” it said in a voice that rumbled less, but still turned Cole’s blood into ice water. “You did well tonight. Killing Misonyk and all these leeches proves your hearts are in the right place.”
“There’s more Nymar where these came from,” Paige said. “They’ll be out looking for all of us after a night like this.”
“Spare me,” the Full Blood grunted. Crouching down to Henry, he said, “Through this one, Misonyk has been shouting his thoughts to us for months. We have always known the Nymar were weak, diseased, and pathetic. Now we also know they are fractured, confused, and just dangerous enough to warrant extermination. Perhaps the humans are as well.”
“Skinners have always played their cards for everyone to see,” Paige said. “You know we’ll honor the old arrangement if everyone sticks to the old deals.”
“There was no arrangement!” the Full Blood roared. Hearing him bellow made Cole and Paige grip their weapons tight enough for the blood to drip from their hands. The Full Blood sniffed the blood on the air and then leaned forward so he was sure to be heard over the sound of the approaching cops. “There were no deals,” he said in a more reasonable voice. “Since you Skinners have done my work for me this night, we’ve decided to give you this warning. You cannot win a true fight with my kind, no matter how many Skinners you pool together or how many Blood Blades you dig up. As for the rest of the humans, they won’t know what they’re facing until they’ve already fallen.
Skinners: Blood Blade Page 32
