At this, Godard’s composure finally broke. He took a step toward the wall of his prison, a scowl clouding his face.
‘Don’t you dare lay a finger on them, you monster!’ He turned to Santana. ‘If you have any feeling at all left in that cold heart of yours, Christie, then let Sheila and Adam live!’
Santana studied Godard impassively. ‘My dear Tomas, why ever should I do that?’
She dipped her chin at Thorne. He pressed a button on the control panel in the metal frame.
The flask moved up into an airlock. A needle came down and perforated the rubber top of the container. There was a faint electronic hum when the liquid inside was aspirated into a glass tubing and started to move up a narrow pipe.
My heart raced against my ribs when I tracked the course of the conduit to a box in the roof of the cage. I slipped my bag off my shoulders.
Ashely frowned. ‘What’re you doing?’
I removed a harness from the backpack, stepped inside the straps, and fastened them swiftly to my body. ‘I’m going in.’
Anatole’s jaw sagged. ‘Are you mad?’
I tied one end of a climbing rope to the harness, looped the other to a carabiner, and turned to Sheila. I cradled the back of her head with one hand and kissed her fiercely.
The heat of her body warmed my frozen core.
‘I have to do this,’ I whispered against her lips. I pulled back and stared into her eyes.
Sheila nodded, her breath catching in her throat. She slipped the Glock in my hand and wiped a tear angrily from her cheek.
‘Live,’ she ordered stiffly.
I looked at Ashely. ‘Get off the island if you can.’
‘Will do,’ he murmured with a grimace.
I walked to the middle of the walkway, locked the carabiner onto the handrail, and climbed over. I took a deep breath and gripped the guns tightly in my hands before jumping off the edge of the metal platform.
As I plummeted head down toward the floor of the atrium, I dropped both arms and fired.
The bullets smashed into the ceiling of the cage a second before the liquid in the pipe reached the box in the roof. A fine mist rained down on Tomas Godard.
I squeezed the triggers rapidly, shooting round after round into the cracking glass.
It shattered seconds before I reached it.
I pulled up sharply, hurtled through the jagged opening, and landed in a crouch in the middle of the shard-strewn floor. I raised my head and straightened slowly in the shocked silence that followed.
Panic washed across the faces of the Crovir nobles beyond the glass wall. Terrified cries erupted around the arena. The Crovir Hunters raised their guns and fired at the cage.
‘Stop!’ Thorne roared. ‘The virus is still inside!’
‘Adam?’ Godard whispered behind me.
I unclipped the rope from my harness, shot through the lock on the door, grabbed my grandfather’s arm, and pulled him out of the prison.
Chaos reigned inside the atrium as the Crovir nobles surged toward the exits; it was obvious from the fear thrumming the air that not all of them had received the vaccine.
A group of Crovir Hunters surrounded us. I holstered the guns and drew the daisho.
‘Stay behind me!’ I barked at my grandfather. He nodded reluctantly.
I shifted into the starting stance of kendo and raised the swords.
The blades flashed under the lights, blocking bullets and slicing through flesh. Three Hunters fell, then five and ten. Another wave appeared. A bullet slipped past my guard and thudded into my vest. Another grazed my thigh. I ignored the wound and took out four more immortals.
Gunfire erupted on the upper floors of the atrium just as the third wave of Crovirs materialized before me. I glanced up. The Schwatzs had arrived.
Gabriel soon entered the arena with Bruno and Costas. They fought their way across the floor and were with us in seconds.
‘Glad to see you’re still alive, old man!’ Gabriel told Godard.
My grandfather smiled weakly.
Costas scowled. ‘Where’s Santana?’
‘She went that way with Thorne.’ I indicated an opening to the left.
‘Sheila?’ said Gabriel.
‘She’s safe. Ashely and Anatole are getting her out of here.’
Godard sagged. ‘Thank goodness for that,’ he murmured.
I scanned the faces beyond Gabriel’s shoulder. ‘What happened to Chapman?’
‘He escaped when we were making our way here,’ came the grim reply.
‘Have you seen Grigoriye?’ asked Costas.
‘Yes. He left with Santana and Thorne.’
Gabriel hesitated. ‘We have Sheila and your grandfather. And we’ve destroyed the labs.’ He looked at me steadily. ‘What we do next is up to you.’
Costas reddened. Before the Schwatz noble could burst in a tirade of angry words, I spoke quietly. ‘Let’s finish this.’
‘I agree,’ said Godard darkly.
We left Bruno and the rest of the Schwatzs inside the arena and headed for the door through which my grandmother and uncle had disappeared. More Crovir guards blocked our path. They perished quickly at our hands.
Gabriel and Costas lifted swords from the dead men.
A pair of elevators appeared at the end of a corridor. The indicator panel on the left glowed as the cabin ascended into the fortress.
I frowned. ‘There’s a helipad on one of the towers.’
Gabriel looked at the second lift. ‘They’ll be expecting us if they see this one light up.’
I pressed the call button. The doors slid aside. I entered the cabin and studied the access panel in the ceiling.
‘I have an idea.’
The elevator opened with a soft ping on the highest floor of the castle a short while later. Bullets riddled the interior.
I waited until the roar of gunfire died down before dropping my upper body through the hatch in the ceiling. My shots did not miss a single target.
I stared at the fallen Hunters through the clearing gun smoke before jumping inside the lift. I helped the others down.
We proceeded swiftly along a deserted corridor. A narrow, spiral staircase appeared at the far end. Ominous silence drifted from the turret above.
I poked my head past the opening of the stairwell and pulled back sharply. A bullet whistled past my ear and struck the floor by my feet.
‘Looks like this is the only way up,’ I said grimly.
Further shots pinged off the walls and the steps.
Costas moved toward the stairs. ‘I’ll go first.’
I put a hand on his arm and stopped him in his tracks. ‘I’m the better shot.’
The Schwatz noble glared at me for several seconds. ‘Well, I can’t exactly argue with that,’ he muttered in a disgruntled tone.
I clipped a fresh magazine into the chamber of the Smith & Wesson and unsheathed the katana.
‘Be careful,’ warned my grandfather.
I nodded and stepped into the stairwell.
Bullets bounced off the blade as I raced up the steps, Gabriel and Costas at my back. I raised the gun and fired at the Crovir Hunters on the landing above.
Shots thudded into the rock next to me. Stone chips erupted from the walls and cut the skin on my face and hands. I blinked and kept going.
The last immortal fell under my sword a moment later. I crouched at the top of the stairs and scanned the hallway ahead. It was empty. We regrouped and headed silently down it.
Voices reached my ears after twenty feet. My knuckles whitened on the handle of the blade. I reached the end of the passage and turned the corner.
Shock immobilized my limbs. My breath froze in my throat.
A circular room crowned the top of the tower ahead. Lancet windows dotted its thick walls and looked out on what remained of the night. The sound of distant waves drifted from the ocean far below.
Christie
Santana and Amos Thorne were almost at the other side of the chamber, Grigoriye close on their steps. A twin-engine Bell 222 stood waiting on a helipad in the middle of the terrace beyond an open doorway.
My heart thudded erratically as I stared at the other figures in the room.
Chapman was holding a gun to Sheila’s head a dozen feet to my left.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured brokenly.
Fear formed a hard lump in my throat as I met her tortured gaze. ‘Ashely?’
Chapman sneered. ‘He’s dead! I shot him and that other mongrel immortal!’
I was moving before he finished talking.
‘Put your weapon down or I’ll shoot her!’ Chapman shouted. He stepped back and dragged Sheila with him.
She struggled in his grip and glanced frantically to where Santana and Thorne were disappearing through the exit. ‘You have to stop them! They still have the virus!’
Gabriel and Costas charged across the room.
The wakizashi left my hand and spun through the air. It thudded into Chapman’s right shoulder a heartbeat later. He gasped and stumbled against the wall. His finger moved on the trigger of his Colt. The bullet left the barrel in a flash of light.
It hurtled past Sheila’s head and struck the ceiling.
I lifted the Smith & Wesson and shot Chapman in the chest. Blood bloomed on his torso. His eyelids fluttered closed and he slumped to the floor.
Sheila bolted across the room and fell into Godard’s waiting arms. ‘Grandfather!’
They hugged each other fiercely.
The sound of clashing blades erupted from the other side of the tower, where the two Schwatz nobles had engaged Grigoriye and Thorne. There was no sign of Santana.
I headed for the fighting men just as Grigoriye fell beneath Costas’s blade. My eyes widened. I opened my mouth to shout out a warning.
Thorne’s sword slipped past Gabriel’s guard and pierced his abdomen. A stunned gasp left the Schwatz’s lips; he blinked and froze. Thorne pulled the blade out and moved to strike again.
The katana blocked the edge of his sword an inch from Gabriel’s neck.
‘This is between you and me, Uncle!’ I hissed.
Costas moved to Gabriel’s side and lowered the bleeding immortal to the floor.
Thorne glared at me. A twisted smile distorted his features. ‘Indeed it is, Nephew!’
His blade glided up mine and curved toward my chest. I jumped back and grasped the katana in a double-handed grip.
Thorne attacked viciously, his sword missing my flesh by a hairbreadth time and time again as we danced around the tower. I fought back just as savagely, the katana singing through the air and blocking his every move.
Motion caught my eyes. A figure had appeared in the doorway to the terrace.
It was Santana.
Gun in hand, she strode toward Sheila and my grandfather where they knelt on the ground and tended to Gabriel. My lips parted on a cry that never came.
Steel flashed ahead of me. Thorne’s blade hummed millimeters past my face. I ducked and dropped to the floor. He moved forward with a hungry expression and brought his sword down with a harsh grunt.
The blade glinted as it fell toward me. I rolled and felt sparks ignite against my skin when it struck the floor next to my head. Blood roared in my ears as I swung my foot around and kicked Thorne in the leg.
He staggered against the wall, a curse leaving his lips. He straightened, took a step forward, and rocked to a standstill. Gray eyes widened in dull incomprehension.
‘No!’ screamed Santana from across the floor.
Thorne’s gaze dropped to the katana buried in his chest.
Santana’s features crumpled in a mask of fury. She raised her gun and shot Godard in the back. The latter gasped and collapsed on the floor. Sheila cried out in horror.
My head whipped round at a low chuckle.
‘Looks like you still lose, half-breed,’ Thorne gasped mockingly.
Rage darkened my vision. I yanked the katana out of his heart and watched him drop to his knees. He fell forward with a thud. Blood pooled in a growing crimson tide beneath his body.
I turned and strode toward my grandmother.
Santana’s hand shifted.
My eyes widened. I started to run.
Sheila rose in front of our grandfather’s still form and glared defiantly into the barrel of the pistol.
My heart leapt in my throat. Arms and legs pumping through air that suddenly felt too thick, I waited for the sound of the shot, knowing I would be too late to stop it.
It never came.
Christie Santana froze. Blood drained from her face.
‘That necklace! Where did you get it?’ she shouted, pointing the gun at the sun cross pendant on Sheila’s chest.
I staggered to a halt several feet from the frozen tableau.
Sheila’s necklace had fallen out of the top of the hospital gown. She raised a hand and touched the thick gold with the tips of her fingers. ‘It belonged to my mother,’ she retorted.
‘Impossible!’ barked Santana. ‘I gave Cecil that pendant on his eighteenth birth—’ She stopped abruptly. Her eyes widened. She turned to Tomas Godard.
Our grandfather’s eyes opened. There was a triumphant look in his blue gaze.
‘You knew?’ said Santana, disbelief dropping the pitch of her voice.
‘Yes,’ Godard replied with more than a trace of satisfaction.
‘Knew what? What is it?’ said Sheila. She stared in confusion from our grandfather to Santana.
Godard turned his head toward Sheila.
‘I’m sorry, child,’ he murmured, his expression sorrowful.
‘What do you mean?’ Sheila whispered.
Godard coughed and took a labored breath. ‘Do you recall how I told you all those years ago that I didn’t know who your father was?’
Sheila nodded tremulously.
Godard gripped her hand. ‘I lied.’
‘What?’ gasped Sheila. ‘But—but why?’
A sudden intuition blasted through my consciousness. My heart thudded erratically inside my chest.
‘Because your father was Cecil Thorne, Christie’s eldest son,’ breathed Godard. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
Sheila stared at our grandfather. ‘That’s—I—I don’t understand!’
‘Cecil and Lily met when Balthazar and Catarine were married.’ Coughs racked Godard’s thin frame once more, air leaving his throat in harsh rasps. A sliver of blood trickled past his lips. ‘They kept their relationship a secret for almost two hundred years.’
Sheila sagged on the floor, her expression stunned.
‘Shortly after your birth, Cecil passed away. Your mother followed him to the grave two years later.’ Godard raised a bloodied hand and touched Sheila’s face with shaking fingers. ‘I’m sorry I never told you, child,’ he whispered, anguish distorting his voice. ‘After what happened with Adam, I thought it best to keep your existence a secret.’
Realization dawned on Santana’s face. She glanced from Sheila to me, her eyes wild. ‘Then that means—’
‘Yes!’ hissed Godard. ‘The precious blood you wanted, the one that would have made your plans come true? It was running through our grandson’s veins all along!’
At these words, Christie Santana finally snapped. A savage cry left her throat and she leveled the gun at Godard’s head.
Her finger never squeezed the trigger.
She turned slowly and stared at me for fathomless seconds. My vision blurred when I looked into gray eyes that were a mirror copy of my father’s.
It was the closest I had ever been to my grandmother.
I stepped back and pulled the katana out of her chest. She crumpled to the ground, anger clouding her face even in death.
My fingers loosened on the handle of the blade. The sword clattered to the stone floor.
I dropped to my knees by my grandfath
er’s side, my heart hammering painfully inside my ribcage. Blood still poured from the wound in his back.
‘How—’ I whispered brokenly, glancing at Sheila.
Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. ‘He has already died sixteen times.’
Sheila cradled our grandfather’s head in her lap, the crystal drops landing softly on his face.
Tomas Godard blinked. A small smile stretched his lips.
‘It’s my time to go,’ he said with a trace of relief. ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.’
The blue eyes shifted to me, pupils dilating darkly as he beheld something I could not see. He reached out and squeezed my hand.
‘I’m so glad we had this time together. I want you to know that I always loved…you.’ The words left his lips on a sigh. His arm dropped to the floor.
Sheila buried her face in his chest, her muffled sobs filling the room.
Numbness spread through me as I gazed at the man who had come to mean so much to me.
Gabriel reached across and clasped Godard’s fingers tightly, his face pale with grief.
‘We should—’ Costas started in a gruff voice a moment later.
A gunshot blasted through the tower. I spun around, the Smith & Wesson in one hand while my fingers closed on the handle of the katana.
Ashely stood inside the entrance to the castle. He lowered the Glock with a wince and clutched at the wound beneath his left clavicle.
My gaze shifted to the far side of the chamber.
Chapman slumped against the wall, his eyes wide beneath the bullet wound in his forehead.
‘I told him I was gonna shoot him,’ Ashely muttered.
Shocked relief washed over me, taking away some of the numbness. ‘You’re alive.’
Ashely grimaced. ‘Yeah, well, it’ll take more than a bunch of immortals to get rid of me. Besides, someone has to watch your back.’
His face darkened when he saw the still figure between Sheila and me.
Anatole appeared behind him. Blood oozed from a nasty wound in the immortal’s right flank.
‘What did we miss?’ he asked with a grin. His expression sobered when he looked around the room. ‘Oh. A lot, by the looks of it.’
Chased Down Page 32
