Reign of the Vampires (32 page)

“Not freaking likely!”

It was the wrong response. Both of them beat on the metal. She pressed herself into it hard, but with each of their shoves, it gave a little. Mason’s blood in her system was the only reason they hadn’t broken in yet. A hand shot around the door and grabbed at her. She shoved with her shoulder and heard Chase’s arm snap.

He cursed loudly and the arm disappeared. Xenock pounded and kicked at the door. The snarls and growls of the rogues on the other side told her they were helping him fight to get the door open. It was a matter of minutes before they broke in.

A noise came from the other side of the room. A heavy wooden bookcase full of papers and books tipped forward then settled back. Her heart sank; someone was breaking through. A cry escaped her lips. She was trapped.

She watched helplessly as the bookcase rocked. With one great shove, the bookcase toppled forward and hit the ground with a crash. Dust flew into the air, surrounding her and causing her to cover her mouth and nose. A coughing fit ensued and her eyes watered as she blinked rapidly trying to clear them. A huge male stood in a small doorway behind the now-downed bookcase, surrounded by several other figures.

She let out a scream and the figure from the doorway rushed toward her. She felt his panic as he swept her into his protective arms. The heat of his body radiated through her.
Mason
. She clung to him. He held her tight, kissing her hair. Behind him, half a dozen men rushed in. It was William, Neeman, and several of the Tracking Squad.

“Get her out of here.” Neeman’s gaze was icy. Xenock and a group of rogues pushed the door open. In the forefront was the bartender from Trade House, with an automatic weapon.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Xenock. “You see, she belongs to me.”

* * * *

“Put her down, human,” Xenock spat.

Mason’s temperature rose, his beast clawing its way up. The skin on his back stretched, ripping his shirt.

“I won’t ask again,” Xenock said. “Put her down, or die.”

Mason set Danika on her feet and pushed her behind himself. His fingers cracked and popped, elongating.

“Everyone back in here,” Xenock commanded.

Mason stalked forward, forcing the rogues onto the warehouse floor. Xenock and the vampyr with the gun backed out as well. Rogues milled about everywhere. Some sat in the corners, huddled together. Most were like rabid animals, grouping together in packs, pushing and snarling to get a closer look at the visitors.

“Danika, darling, why don’t you come stand by me? It is much safer here, I assure you.” Xenock smiled.

“Over my dead body!” Neeman yelled.

Xenock turned his gaze on Neeman. “Why, Neeman, how are you? Long time no see. Still suffering from the same delusions that you had the last time I saw you? Still think you can win her back? Sorry, friend, but she and I had long conversations about you, and I can tell you that—”

“Xenock.” Danika stepped from behind Mason. “That’s enough.”

Mason reached for her. He would die before he let her go again. The moment his hand touched her skin, a rogue sprang forward like a trained attack dog. Mason grabbed the rogue by the throat and broke his neck. The diversion was all it took. Quick as lightning, Xenock grabbed Danika, pulling her to him. Mason howled with rage. His muscles shifted as the beast within him clawed his way loose.

“Let her go,” Mason said, his voice quiet. “I promise you if you don’t, you won’t like what happens.”

Xenock laughed bitterly. “Me, human? I think it’s more likely that
you
won’t like what’s about to happen. My coven members haven’t fed in a while, and I promised them a meal tonight. They don’t have a very discerning palette, so any human or Vampire will do.”

“Xenock, think about what you are doing.” Neeman moved to stand beside Mason and pressed a large knife into his hand.

“Oh, I have been thinking. Waiting, planning, all for the moment when I’d claim her as mine. The moment I awoke from Chase’s bite, it was all I thought of. And now she is here, and she’s mine.” Xenock planted a soft kiss on Danika’s cheek.

“She’s not yours. She’s destined to be so much more than the mate of a crazed vampyr,” Mason spat.

“Oh, she isn’t, is she? Well, I’ll change that this second.” With a flash of fang, Xenock bit down into Danika’s neck.

She let out a cry and before he moved, the hungry vamps surrounded Mason. The gunman fired, and Ian hit the ground, blood pouring from a hole ripped through his shoulder. Neeman ran to Ian, pulling him into the small storage room.

Three vamps were on William in an instant. Mason swung the heavy hunting knife and cut the head off one. William broke the neck of the second. The third Mason threw into a charging group of vamps, knocking them down like bowling pins.

He scanned the room for Danika. She struggled against Xenock while he pulled her across the warehouse by her hair. She kicked hard and Xenock let go of her momentarily. She got a step away before he tackled her. The two wrestled on the ground, with Xenock trying to get Danika to drink from him. Another pack rushed Mason; Neeman was back at Mason’s side. As the group took down the first volley of rogues, more replaced them. There were too many, and the Tracking Squad was overwhelmed.

“Get Danika, and get her out of here,” Neeman yelled, crushing the skull of a female vamp. “I’ll take care of Xenock.”

Mason scanned the fray. Ian had returned, and he and William fought side-by-side. William was limping and he had a bite mark on his shoulder. There was no way they were going to make it out of this with Danika. Not unless Mason did the thing he hadn’t done in more than five hundred years. He took a deep breath. She was worth it, whatever the cost.

“No,” Mason said. “You get Danika. I’ll take care of Xenock.” Neeman locked eyes with Mason and nodded. Mason stripped his shirt off and bared his chest. Neeman called to the other trackers.

“Keep them away from Mason for one minute,” Neeman yelled.

“Only one,” Mason yelled in reply. “Then get out of my way.”

He moved toward the door they’d come through. His blood had risen to lava heat level in anticipation of what was coming. He let the rage flow through him, keeping his eyes on Danika as she struggled against Xenock’s hold. Xenock’s blood dripped onto her face.

Mason stared down at the runes on his chest. They glowed white hot against his skin.

“I call upon Bael, Lord of the Underworld. I call on Diablo, the Lord of Death. I call on Samael, the Lord of Pain. And I call upon Mephisto, the Lord of Destruction. I am Maelstrom, son of Mephisto, and heir to all. I assume my true form, and call upon the power that is within me to bring forth my father’s work upon this lesser plane.”

The fire took over. The beast laughed with delight. Then the pain hit. The runes burned in his chest, making him let out a blood-curdling roar. He was oblivious of everything else as his skin ripped and tore from his back. His inky black wings flexed and lifted from the human skin to which they had fused, spreading ten feet in either direction. His mind went blank.

* * * *

Danika was losing strength. It was all she could do to keep Xenock’s blood out of her mouth. He chanted as he pinned her to the floor. Ancient words that he thought would bind her to him and make her his. She brought up her knee straight into his groin, making him grimace and stop. Taking the advantage, she pushed him off her, flipped to her feet, and scanned for Mason. Neeman and the others stood in a semi-circle, hungry vamps pummeling them. Then she heard a terrible laugh and a roar that shook the ground.

Everything stopped moving, and she saw him. Mason stood in the middle of the semi-circle. His runes blazed like sunlight, he narrowed his gaze upon her. Black wings, exactly like his tattoos, burst from behind him, growing and pulsing with life. They unfurled and stretched to their immense width.

His bone structure shifted. His pants ripped as he grew larger and larger. His skin deepened to a charcoal gray, and his eyes burned with orange flames. His incisors lengthened down to his chin as his hands grew three times their size, tipped with claws longer than her hands. Just when she thought he was done, the skin parted on each temple and black, sleek horns curled down his cheeks and up over his jawbone.

No one moved. Mason let out another terrible roar and then his hands caught fire. It was impossible. He couldn’t be... There hadn’t been any for hundreds of years. But there he was, and there was no denying it. Mason was a demon.

Terror flooded her, and the scar on her chest warmed until it burned. She clutched her chest, breathing rapidly. His blood sang in her veins. His rage permeated her being. She finally understood. Mason
was
rage. He was destruction. Fire shot from his hand into a group of rogues, killing several and setting a dozen more on fire. He laughed, deep and hearty. The air around her popped and sizzled with heat.

Mason threw another fireball, and another group of vamps fled from him. The screeches and shrieks of the victims filled her ears. The smell of charred flesh made her cough and gag. The vamps backed as far away from Mason as they could. Over and over, Mason threw fire at them, killing them off in groups and laughing as if it were a sporting event.

“Stop,” Xenock said.

He stood wide-eyed with terror, watching Mason destroy the rogues. Part of her wanted to reach out to Xenock, to try and save him from himself. She was too paralyzed with fear.

“Stop,” Xenock said, louder. “Stop it!
Stop
!” he yelled over Mason’s laughter. Mason turned.

“Puny vampyr. I thank you for this.” Mason motioned to all the dead rogues. “For too long I’ve been caged. But now, your hatred, your rage has set me free to do what I was born to do. To destroy.”

Xenock’s eyes narrowed. “You’re an abomination, and I shall kill you for this insult to my coven.”

“Anger, good.” Mason smiled, revealing a large set of sharp teeth. “I feel the anger; it’s like mine.”

Xenock rushed him, slicing at him with his nails. But Mason was close to ten feet tall, and Xenock’s attempt merely scratched the outside of Mason’s left thigh. Mason swatted him, throwing him across the room. Xenock sailed past Danika and hit the wall with a crash.

“Stop!” Danika shouted.

Mason laughed louder as Xenock stumbled to his feet and ran at him again.

“Ooh, spirit. I like that.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Xenock spat, his fangs bared.

“Let’s give that a try,” Mason goaded. Lifting a finger, Mason laughed, beckoning Xenock forward. She felt his elation at the freedom. His emotions flowed into her like wine. His total bliss at the killing and the destruction he doled out was overwhelming. The feelings were so primal. It wasn’t Mason.

Xenock ran at Mason, pulling a knife from his waistband. Mason swung his arm to knock him down, but Xenock ducked and stabbed him in the thigh instead. Mason howled in rage, then rotated around, dealing Xenock a powerful blow with his right wing.

Mason pulled the knife from his leg and threw it at Xenock. Xenock rolled to his side and the knife missed his head, lodging in the floor behind him. He had just gotten to his feet when Mason plucked him out of the air by the throat.

“Too bad you’re so weak, I would’ve loved to add your anger to mine with you as my slave.” Xenock’s eyes went wide. His pale skin glowed brighter and brighter until it darkened and turned to coal. Danika watched in horror as the form that had been Xenock took a last breath and crumpled to the floor in a pile of ash.

Mason turned to the remaining vamps cowering together in the corner. “You’re the abominations. You are the vermin of this world, and must be cleansed.” Mason let forth balls of fire in every direction. Rogues screamed and ran in hysteria.

Danika felt a tug on her arm and she turned; William pulled on her, his eyes tired and fearful.

“We have to go,” he said.

Danika blinked; none of this could be real. Mason wasn’t killing all those vamps with balls of fire. Neeman appeared out of the fray, rushing her toward the exit. They’d almost made it when heat prickled Danika’s neck. She dropped to the ground, pulling Neeman and William with her. A fireball whizzed over their heads and hit the door with a bang, cracking and destroying it.

“Where are you going?” Mason laughed. “You Vampires are not too good for the wrath of Maelstrom.”

Danika rolled over and flipped to her feet. Her blood boiled with rage. Mason had thrown a fireball at her. She stalked forward, but Neeman was up and grabbed her by the arm.

“Stop. You can’t help him.”

Danika looked up at Neeman. “He can’t hurt me. Go, get William to safety.”

“I’m not leaving you here with him,” Neeman said.

Danika laid her hand on his cheek. “You’re a good man, and someday you’ll find a mate who will love you the way you deserve. I hope I’m there to rejoice with you in that time. Mason is my mate. I bring him home, or go with him to his. Either way, I’m not leaving without him.” Then she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and turned to face Mason.

Neeman let go of her arm and she walked forward, her determination set. The ashes and bones of the dead crunched beneath her heels. Mason smiled at her, his pointy teeth beckoning her to her death.

“Ahh... So they sent a morsel to sate my thirst. So sweet, you smell so sweet,” he purred. He stopped and his eyes narrowed. “You’re familiar to me.”

She walked till she was within thirty feet of him. His black form stretched before her. His blazing runes glowed against the blackness that was his skin. Her stomach quivered at the sight of him, but not in fear.

“Mason,” she said. “I know you can hear me.”

He laughed a mirthless laugh, and quick as light, flew to within a foot of her, lifting her off the ground by her throat. His hand was like fire on her skin, but it didn’t burn her. He pulled her close and sniffed her hair.

“You smell delicious; to taste a blood such as yours will be a rare treat.”

“Mason.” She stared into his burning eyes. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

“My name is Maelstrom, and you cannot begin to know the things that I want to do to you.”