hellcat 05 - come hell or high water (30 page)

Gabi scooted backward, avoiding the blow and reading the woman’s movements, assessing, appraising, sizing her up.  Movement to her left alerted her to someone else’s approach.  It felt like a friendly.

“She’s mine,” Gabi growled.  “Secure the male, and release the captive wolf.”  The
newcomer backed off and Lady Helsing smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.  Gabi understood that smile.  And Gabi actually had the goods to back up that smile.  This human, amped up on Vamp blood, was a pretender, a trumped-up bitch with an attitude problem.  A little like Gabi used to be just a few short months ago.  Gabi returned the smile with one of her own, only hers hinted at the veracity of her thoughts.  Lady Helsing paused in her attack, sensing this was more of a challenge than she’d anticipated, doing some sizing up of her own.  They circled, never still, Gabi with the MacBow in her hand, Lady Helsing with the gun.  Nex itched against Gabi’s spine.

Lady Helsing broke first, lunging in and swinging the gun towards Gabi’s abdomen while bringing her other fist up hard, aiming for the underside of Gabi’s jaw.  Gabi blocked the fist with her bow, allowing the solid metal of the gun to thud into the protective hardness of her jacket, the blow drove the wind from her lungs, but she caught hold of the weapon and yanked the woman in close enough to headbutt her in the nose, hard enough to hurt, but not quite hard enough to break anything.  Lady Helsing yowled in pain and anger and thrust away from Gabi, the gun clattering to the floor as the two of them broke apart.  Fury blazed in the other woman’s eyes as she wiped the trickle of blood from her nose with the back of one hand.  Then she adjusted her movements, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.  She held Gabi’s gaze as she purposefully tugged the coat from her shoulders and threw it to the floor behind her, and this time, as she stretched her hands out, inviting Gabi in, something glinted dully on the knuckles of her right hand.  A silver knuckleduster, complete with large, razor-sharp studs and a vicious claw attached to the pinkie side.  Lacking the patience for showboating, Gabi charged, leaping to land a double-booted, forward kick right in Lady Helsing’s midriff.

CHAPTER 17

The fight with the esteemed Lady Helsing had taken longer than Gabi realised, though it couldn’t have been more than four or five minutes.  In the meanwhile the thunder and lightning had ebbed, but heavy rain beat against the roof in a steady waterfall.  When she finally pulled the zip-tie tight around the other woman’s ankles, there was little other fighting and no further gunshots in the factory.  Vampires were drifting from one slumped human to another, tying them up or lifting them and carrying them away.  The cage stood open and the young Werewolf was gone.  The chubby man Darkstalker had called Mastermind was still slumped over his array of electronics; Gabi was sorely tempted to hook him up to his own shock device, but sadly there were more constructive things that needed to be done.  There was still a long night ahead of them. 

She wiped sweat from her forehead and blood from the corner of her mouth; she could taste more inside her mouth and a couple of her teeth ached.  Her left eye was already swelling and she had a couple of bruised, possibly cracked, ribs.  The woman had been a competent adversary, better than Gabi could’ve imagined. She was naturally quick, agile and tenacious, and her body was honed to perfection.  Under different circumstances, Gabi could actually respect her.

She rolled the unconscious woman over with one boot; she too sported bruises to her face and arms, a cut under one eye, and probably some broken fingers.  Beneath her clothing there would be a host of additional bruises, but nothing that would require medical attention.  Gabi was exceptionally proud of herself.  It had taken more effort than she expected to exhaust and finally knock out the Vamped-up human without causing serious injuries.  She rolled her head across her shoulders and stretched her back, easing soreness.  She dared not leave Lady Helsing here unsupervised. If she roused, she might still be strong enough to break her bonds, but Gabi wanted to join Julius in his hunt for the Lieutenant.  He’d gone quiet in her mind while she fought, and now had an impenetrable mental wall erected between them; perhaps her fight had been distracting him while he needed to focus.

She glanced around, looking for a Werewolf or Vampire to hand the Kresnik leader over to, when something made her look up towards a suspended catwalk on the other side of the factory.  Movement had caught her attention; it looked as though a Kresnik was making one last stand despite the odds.  Through the smoky haze of too many gunshots and some fried electrical equipment, it was hard to make out exactly what was going on.  Casting a narrow-eyed glare at the trussed-up woman, she moved closer to the pair of male figures on the catwalk.  She stilled the moment she recognised the smaller of the two. Henry was trying to fend off a much bigger man, a man wielding a crowbar, while Henry only held a piece of wood no bigger than a baseball bat. 

“Shit,” Gabi swore, sprinting for the nearest metal staircase.  She took the stairs three at a time.  Henry wasn’t even supposed to be here; he was under orders to leave at any point that fighting broke out.  What in Hell’s name was he still doing here?

She couldn’t see him now, and she prayed he would hold out a few more seconds.  Damn, damn, damn.  She reached the catwalk, pausing for a millisecond to assess the situation.  He was facing her with his attacker between them. A crowbar-shaped mark reddened his entire left cheek, blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, and his face was already beginning to swell.  His eyes were slightly glazed as they found her.  A tiny hint of a smile lifted the unbloodied side of his mouth.  The man raised the crowbar again, and this time Henry didn’t have the strength to raise his own weapon in defence.

“No,” Gabi shrieked as she ploughed towards them.  But she would be too late, the man didn’t even turn to see what came for him.  She reached them just as the crowbar landed against the other side of Henry’s head, connecting with his temple and sending him crashing against the railing.  His fragile body buckled as it hit and Gabi heard something snap as his head rebounded from the solid upper rail. 

Gabi slammed the butt of her crossbow into the base of the man’s skull and the man mountain crumpled to the ground without a word.  She wasn’t sure if she’d killed him, and she really didn’t care.

“No,” Gabi whispered, leaping over the man’s prone form to rush to Henry’s side.  “Lord and Lady, Henry.”  Her friend’s body lay in an unnatural heap, and blood ran from the ragged split in his scalp as well as from one ear, his mouth and nose.  His eyes opened and, with a little effort, focused on her.  Gabi pressed the comm device at her ear. 

“I need a medic up on the top level. A human one.”  The Magi Healers wouldn’t be able to help a Null.  “Now!” she growled, but her heart already knew it was too late.  Henry’s head was bent against one shoulder, and the sound she’d heard could only have been bone splintering.  His mouth lifted in yet another smile, his eyes aware.  He knew.  In his gaze pain and sadness mixed with understanding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gabi swore.  She was cursing herself, the world, the bastards who’d set this all in motion. 

“It’s okay, Hellcat,” Henry rasped.  “I’m okay.  There’s no pain.”  There was no pain because his spinal cord had been severed, she thought, her teeth clamping together painfully.  Even if they managed to save his life, he’d probably never walk again.  When would the carnage end?

A sense of calm enveloped her; Julius had felt her pain through his defences and was trying to comfort her.

Wait…Julius…of course.

“Henry,” she said urgently.  “I can try to save you, but I’m not sure if it will heal everything.”  She took one of his hands in hers and lifted it to her face; his flesh was cool.  “I can get a Vampire here.  You’ll…you’ll be like them.  Like Mac.  Do you understand?  Do you want that?”  She was so relieved he was conscious enough for her to ask, but she already knew his answer, knew what decision she would’ve made for him.  He was so young, had so much to live for, had so much to still experience.

“Thank you,” he said, the smile growing on his bloodied face, “but no.”

“What?”  Gabi asked, not sure she’d heard right.  “But you’ll still get to be here, be part of the Clan, part of us.  It’ll be hard at first…”

“Shh…” He hushed her prattle, but any words were cut off by a wet, choking cough. 

Gabi gently moved his body so that his face turned towards the floor. Frothy red bubbles flowed from his mouth.  She wished she had a blanket or something to pull under his head. 

He swallowed weakly, clearing his throat.  “It’s okay,” he repeated.  “I can see the way.  I’m ready.” 

A sob tried to bubble out of Gabi’s throat and she gulped it back down. 

“You all did so much,” he continued weakly, but his expression radiated absolute joy, the antithesis to his terrible injuries.  “You restored my faith.  My soul is ready.  Thank you.”  His gaze lost focus and drifted towards the ceiling. 

Pounding footsteps had Gabi laying his head down to spin and face the threat, but it was Kyle who appeared out of the dark haze.  She turned from him back to Henry, determined to convince him to let them Turn him, but as she crouched down again and put her hand to his face, she saw that he’d already gone, the joyous smile still firmly in place.  Kyle put a hand on her shoulder and reached around her to gently close the man’s eyes.

“You can’t win them all, Hellcat,” he whispered, pulling her away and into a bear hug.  “Sometimes people are ready for the next stage.  Sometimes it’s not up to us.” 

Kyle had always been wise beyond his years, but this time she wished he wasn’t right.

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

“Just kill me now,” the Vampire lisped through his heavily protruding fangs.  “I won’t tell you anything.”

Julius watched him without emotion.  He’d carefully tucked all emotion away in a back corner of his mind.  Fergus and Tabari stood close on either side, but not touching the Vampire.  The yard out the back of the factory was devoid of life. The rain had stopped, but they were all soaked, water dripping heedlessly from their faces and clothing.  They could take their captive back to the interrogation chamber at the Estate, but it might prove more useful to use the threat of staking him out here to await the dawn.  That might further addle his mind, allowing Julius easier access, more chance of getting the information he needed without killing him in the process.  Some older Vampire minds didn’t react well to his intrusion.  He’d killed a couple of Dantè’s Clan like that. 

“Nothing you do to me could be worse than what they would do.” The Lieutenant spat a glob of blood out of his mouth.  The injuries to the side of his face were healing, but slower than Julius would’ve expected. 

“They,” Julius breathed the word.  “So you are working for a greater power.” 

The other Vampire hissed, baring his fangs, but didn’t lunge at Julius again. 

“Didn’t
they
tell you what I was capable of?” Julius asked mildly.  “What my strength is?”  A sudden thought occurred to him.  “Or perhaps they think the stories of my abilities are exaggerated. Hmmm…”  It seemed the Lieutenant’s Masters had made a rookie mistake, and that didn’t make any sense.  He shrugged the thought away; he needed information, contemplation could come later.

Bracing himself, he focused on the kneeling Vampire and imagined taking the man’s mind in his and applying pressure.  The Vampire screamed, grabbing at his head as though to rip his scalp off. 

“You see?” Julius breathed.  “Do you understand now?”  His own voice had gone hollow as the beast inside him took control. 

“I can’t.  I can’t. I can’t!” The Vampire was tugging at what little remained of his hair.  “You don’t know what they’ll do. It’s you that doesn’t understand.”  Blood had begun seeping from the corners of his eyes and his nostrils.

“You can and you will,” Julius continued, the empathy of his human side obliterated by the part that lurked in the deepest shadows of his mind.  His inner psychopath.  The part that he kept chained, bound and gagged except in the most exceptional of circumstances.  Circumstances where those he cared for were under threat.  Circumstances like this.  “That was just a taste of what I can do.  Speak the truth and I’ll kill you cleanly.”

The Vampire became more distraught with every word.  He shrieked, his hands trying to claw his eyeballs.  Fergus and Tabari moved to restrain him.

“No, no, no, no,” he howled.  “The Magus, the Magus, I can’t say the words.”

The rage built in Julius’s chest.  He hadn’t wanted to do it the hard way; it took so much more effort to rip the images from another’s mind.  Scaring the truth from them was far easier, but he would do whatever it took to protect his Clan.  And his Lea.  He quickly scanned the yard again, ensuring she hadn’t found him.  He’d felt her pain at Henry’s passing, and then he’d cut himself off from her once more.  She must still be busy inside or his wall was strong enough to keep her from finding him.  He stepped forward, reached out and grasped the Vampire’s chin, forcing his face upward, where Julius could look into his eyes. 

And then he hammered the full brunt of his power into the Vampire’s mind, locking onto his memories, inexorably ripping them from the dark bubble of protection where they lurked.  They hadn’t thought he was strong enough to counter the Magi spell.  They knew nothing of his true strength.  That pleased the beast. 

Julius’s back arched and his head flew back as the weight of the memories assailed him. 

Women.  Children.  War.  Blood.  Death.  Love.  Hate. 

Every memory across more than three hundred years of existence pounded into his mind like a tidal wave.  He was barely conscious of Fergus’s steadying hands and the consistent stream of energy that flowed to bolster him, bringing him back to the surface. 

He waded through the dregs of remembrance, sifting for the images he wanted, the ones that had been in the very centre of the magic bubble. 

Visions of men and women: all different, none familiar.  Ten.  The Ten.  Yes, the Decuria.  Julius focused his energy on these, committing them to his own memory.  But some of the faces were smooth and featureless.  The Lieutenant knew of them, of their existence, had received orders from them, but didn’t actually know who they were or what they looked like.  They were from all parts of the world and the Lieutenant was not privy to their exact locations.