The Damned (19 page)

Monsters—hideous, deformed things that had once been men or vampires or maybe even werewolves, or all three—charged the hunters. Eriko froze for a moment as Jamie shouted at Svika to move; then Svika and Jamie started running, weaving through the minefield toward the carriage house.

The danger of that maneuver took Eriko’s breath away. Also the wrongheadedness. They should fight first and continue to the lab second.
Fight the battle that’s in front of you.
That’s what her father had said, after she’d told him she was leaving Japan to train to fight vampires in Spain. She hadn’t completely understood what he’d meant until now.

Only she, Holgar, and Antonio had the strength to out-run those creatures, but even if they could, it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be blown up by the land mines for their efforts. And the other hunters? Blown up as well, or torn apart.

Skye rushed past her, following Jamie and screaming a spell of some sort. As the adrenaline flooded Eriko’s body, she wished, just once, that Skye would do some sort of spell to wipe out the enemy attacking them. Couldn’t a witch do that? It was dishonorable not to fight your hardest, do everything you could to protect your own people.

As Holgar ran after his partner, Jenn and Eriko locked eyes.

“Follow me,” Jenn said. It was more of an entreaty, not an order.

“We won’t outrun them,” Eriko said, even as Antonio staked the first creature to come within arm’s length. “I will stay, fight. I will join you in the palace as soon as I can.”

“You won’t know the way,” Jenn said.

“Yes, she will. I’ll stay with her. I can see your footprints in the snow and will follow them to you,” Antonio said.

The creatures were a dozen jumps away. Eriko whipped two stakes from her belt and braced herself for battle.

“Run, Jenn, hurry!”

And Jenn ran.

Eriko and Antonio squared off, and Eriko was grateful he was there. She hadn’t trusted him when they’d first formed their team. But now there was no one she’d rather have next to her when she was making her final stand, even if she hated the fact that he, too, held back when he fought. She did it from pain, he from fear that he would revert to the monstrous evil that cursed him.

The beasts attacked them like a shock wave, and Eriko spun in a circle, planting stakes in two different chests and catching a glimpse of Antonio doing the same. It was like some insane sort of ballet. Spin, jump.

Kill.

Antonio grabbed her and whirled her around to face an enemy approaching on his right side while he stabbed another one standing in front of him. The creatures that filled Eriko’s vision had muscle denser than any human’s, and it took more strength to pierce the flesh near their hearts. That was the point; their own bodies served as a kind of armor, making them all but invincible to a human of normal strength.

But there was nothing normal about Eriko, or Antonio for that matter. Behind her she heard the
rat-a-tat-tat
of a machine gun, and her stomach lurched.
Don’t think about what’s happening to the others. Just focus.

Noah was worried as the line raced along through the minefield. They zigzagged across it like some drunken snake. At every footfall he expected to be blown up, but no mines went off. He finally began to wonder if the field was actually riddled with the bombs at all.

And then a more chilling thought hit him. How did Svika know the way through it? He stopped so abruptly that Jenn ran into him from behind, and for a moment they grappled together, trying to maintain their balance and stay on their feet.

“What?” she hissed.

“Something is wrong.”

“What?” she asked again, glancing behind as the others slowed down, looking at her anxiously.

“How does Svika know the way through this field?” he asked her.

She blinked. “Maybe Dantalion showed it to him.” But she frowned. “Or . . . he
is
a plant.”

“But why not just blow us up? Why lure us in?” Noah pressed.

“Dantalion wants to perform more experiments? He wants to make sure he’s killed you and Taamir?”

He took that in. “He’s guided us almost across. But you saw him. He’s not human anymore. How can we trust him?”

“Come on!” the werewolf shouted as he looked back at them, having slowed his pace.

So, he was running behind a werewolf. And there was a witch. And their Hunter wasn’t their leader. It was a crazy team. What other secrets could they possibly be hiding? They acted like they had lots of secrets.

Especially Jenn Leitner.

Panting, Jenn heaved a sigh of relief as they reached the carriage house. Her lungs were burning. As she bent to catch her breath, she glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see Antonio and Eriko following, and fearing that she would see the monsters instead.

But she could see no one through the reflections of moonlight on falling snow, just the forests and the mountainside they’d run down, with a higher mountain towering over it, black silhouettes in the swirling whiteness. Her stomach clenched. Brushing her damp hair away from her face, she ran on, reaching a tumbledown wooden structure that reminded her of a barn.

“The tunnel entrance is in here,” Svika said, touching a canted wooden door, as the group hustled toward him.

“Jamie?” Taamir said, barely winded.

“Yeah?” Jamie replied.

“Stab him in the shoulder.”

And before anyone could move or think, Jamie whipped a stake out and did just that. Taamir clapped his hand over Svika’s mouth as Svika dropped to the ground.

“What the hell?” Holgar whispered.

“Tell us what Dantalion’s planning,” Taamir said to the writhing man. He glanced at Noah. “He’s not himself.”

Noah nodded grimly.

“I can’t—I didn’t—,” Svika protested

Taamir backhanded him across the face. “Tell us, or I’ll let Noah ask you.”

Jenn stared hard at Noah, wondering how he would take this treatment of someone who was, in essence, family.

“You don’t want him to interrogate you. You know what he can do,” Taamir said quietly.

“Skye, is there anything you can do?” Jenn asked. “Maybe work a spell of some kind?”

Skye just looked dazed. Then her eyes ticked past Jenn’s shoulder, as though she suddenly saw someone standing in the snowy woods. The look on her face raised the hair on the back of Jenn’s neck, and Jenn turned quickly, legs spread in a fighting stance, stake in her hand.

There was no one there. She turned back to Skye. The English witch still wore the same horrified expression.

“Skye?” Jenn asked, looking from her to the empty space and back again.

Skye didn’t move. Noah pressed his hand against Svika’s injured shoulder, hurting him. Things were quickly spinning out of control, and Jenn began to sweat, wishing she knew if and when the trap was going to be sprung.

She strode forward and snapped her fingers in front of Skye’s eyes. Nothing. Forcing herself not to panic, she grabbed Skye’s shoulders and shook her hard.

“Skye! What is it?”

Skye turned to her, lips trembling. “He’s here. I don’t know how, but he’s here.” She reached for a cross from her belt.

“Who’s here, Skye?”

Skye screamed in utter panic. “Oh, God, he’s found me!”

“Who?”

“Estefan! Oh, my Goddess, he’s
here!”

Jenn blinked and stared at the falling snow. “Who?”

And then, in the sudden stillness, Jenn heard the sounds of battle.

R
USSIA
A
URORA AND
E
STEFAN

From the towering mountaintop, shielded by tree branches, Aurora ran her hands along her fabulous ermine coat and watched through the snowfall as Antonio and the Hunter fought off Dantalion’s monsters. She’d been picking the disgusting creatures off for days now, thinning them—she hoped it was driving Dantalion mad—but now it was time to let
them
pick off the hunters.

Beside her, Estefan stood in black body armor and a heavy black wool coat—he could still feel cold; Aurora just liked fur coats. The haughty and very sexy warlock looked supremely smug and self-satisfied. It irritated her, but if
she
was going to have a witch on her side, she could do worse than Estefan Montevideo.

“I can feel her,” he chortled.

“Which means she can feel you, too, yes?” Aurora reminded him.

He hesitated, and she raised her brows at him. The egos of men rendered them so stupid.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he admitted.

She sighed. Estefan’s obsession with his ex was inconvenient, but understandable. He was still in love with the little witch, even though he also hated her for setting him on fire.

It was like that with her and Sergio. She was tired of being a slave to how he made her feel. He wasn’t worth it. She had resolved that she was going to kill him. Their master would either thank her for it or kill her himself. He had always loved Sergio more than her.

Just as Sergio had always loved Antonio de la Cruz.

Watching the hunky priest, she wondered why it was that Sergio was so obsessed with him. She guessed Sergio was embarrassed by what he saw as his failure. No other Cursed One had ever been able to maintain his humanity and thereby so utterly reject his sire. Sergio hated and feared Antonio because of that. And yet, on those many occasions when Sergio could have killed Antonio, Sergio hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it.

Yes, Antonio was Sergio’s failure, his weakness. But Antonio’s misguided strength of will made him truly spectacular, a lone specimen of rebellion among the Cursed Ones. Dantalion would have done well to capture and study Antonio, not create monstrosities in his labs. For all they knew, Antonio would one day will himself to walk in the sun—and wouldn’t
that
change things.

She assumed Dantalion was unaware of all the drama taking place outside his fortress. From her vantage point Aurora watched the battle between Hunter and Cursed One, and the hybridized
things
Dantalion had made. She saw the glint of the rubies in the cross earring Antonio wore.
Her
rubies, from the crucifix she had carried when she was human. The one that her master had taken from her the night he converted her, in that filthy cell. Her family had been tortured and burned, and the Spanish Grand Inquisitor, Tomás de Torquemada, had threatened to do the same to her. Then
he
had come . . . and saved her.

By damning her for all eternity.

Her sire had broken that cross to bits and handed out the stones to favored members of their court when they had performed a particularly noteworthy task. Sergio had been favored with more than a dozen of them. She had not been around during the year that Antonio de la Cruz had been converted. She and Sergio had had one of their frequent rows, and she’d been off sulking in Rio. She hadn’t really stopped sulking since.

Behind Aurora two dozen of her vampires waited, silent, watching her and anticipating her signal. They would do her bidding without question. They only represented a portion of those faithful to her. Some she had converted herself, others were older than her, but all had come to trust her, to follow her.

She was tired of sharing power and jockeying for position with Sergio. It was time to end it once and for all. She turned to Louis, her lieutenant, who appeared to be in his late fifties, with thin, graying hair. She liked Louis. He wasn’t one of the preening ones who liked to look pretty. He was tough, loyal, and utterly bloodthirsty.

“When I give you the word, destroy those hideous things and bring me the vampire,” she said.

“And the Hunter?” he asked.

Aurora shrugged. “Kill her if she gets in the way, but don’t waste effort on her otherwise.”

She had been watching the Hunter. The girl was good, and the special elixir—oh, yes, Aurora knew all about it—definitely enhanced her natural fighting abilities. But she reeked of pain quite a distance away. Her body was wearing out. Without a miracle the girl wouldn’t survive the year without her organs failing her. There was no sense risking the lives of her warriors doing battle with that one. Not when Aurora had Sergio in her crosshairs.

Louis nodded, and the first dozen of her Cursed Ones snapped to attention. They looked magnificent in their padded vests, which, like the hybrids’ leathery bodies, made them difficult to stake. And they were armed with human-made weapons that they knew how to use with killing skill.

She looked toward the palace, caressing her long black braid, which coiled over her shoulder. Dantalion probably couldn’t hear them from this distance and had no idea she was there. His experiments with sunlight were intriguing and could be put to good use. His little Frankenstein’s monsters, on the other hand, were an abomination. Ones she was sure, now that she had seen them, the master would not approve of.

“What are your orders?” Louis asked her.

“Let’s see what the Salamancans are capable of,” she replied. She raised her hand.

“Go,” Louis told the vampires. “Bring him to Aurora.”

Flipping off their safeties and priming their weapons, her fighters charged down the hill as the light snowfall turned into a raging storm. She raised one brow and looked at Estefan, who shook his head, pulling his coat more snugly around himself.

“I didn’t do it,” he said. “Do you want me to stop it?”

She shook her head. “Save your strength.”

Below, on the slopes, her warriors reached the battle. Antonio and the Hunter had fought Dantalion’s abominations well. But both were injured, and both were exhausted, and there were still a lot of the monstrosities left.

“Send in the second wave,” she told Louis.

More vampires joined the first rank, and together they mowed down the creatures with submachine-gun fire. Purple blood, and red, burst from wounds. The monsters shrieked in Russian and howled like wolves. Some died from submachine-gun fire. But any creatures containing Cursed One body parts had to be staked or beheaded to be destroyed. Then they hissed as those parts disintegrated into dust.