Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1 (68 page)

“Enough,” he growled when the girl threatened to keep on with her nagging. The shifters were running by outside, some of them already changing shape in anticipation of the hunt. “We risk falling behind.” They joined Rachelle and the others, and quickly chased the shifters into battle.

Gunfire shattered the night, and battle was joined. Shifters tumbled and fell to automatic weapons in the hands of AML soldiers, but most regained their feet already changing. The baying of wolves suddenly replaced howls of pain. Angel went to one knee and fired into the darkness in controlled bursts. Her crew were doing similar things. Danyelle snarled and dashed away to find something to kill. Gavin watched her ride a human to the ground and didn’t interfere or call her to heel. She fed briefly from her victim, killed him, and ran into the dark looking for another meal. He did not try to stop her. Charles watched her go with a wistful look upon his face and Gavin sighed. No plan lasted very long once battle was joined, but to abandon it this soon?

“Very well, you may join her—” Gavin broke off as Charles charged into the night in pursuit of his blood sister. Lee did not follow. He awaited the order. “Yes, yes. If you must.”

Lee sprinted away.

Elizabeth looked at him hopefully, but he couldn’t give away all of his advantages. He shook his head and her face fell. A pout appeared. Really? How old was she to act so? He sampled her aura and decided that she hadn’t yet reached triple digits. Still, she was old enough to have mastered her impulses better than this.

Rachelle laughed. “They’ll remember this night fondly for the rest of their days.”

Probably true, if they survived. Elizabeth’s pout grew more obvious still. He ignored her and reached out to feel the night. He could sense a powerful revenant in the house. There were others in there too, but this one was more powerful by far. He frowned as he tried to judge his strength and grunted in surprise. He was of a similar age and power to his own. Interesting then that this false Arcadian, if indeed this was he, had chosen to remain in the shadows, rather than openly challenge him and the established order in LA.

“He’s in the house. I will flush him out. Rachelle and Elizabeth will kill any of his brood that attempt to prevent me.”

Angelina nodded and sent her crew on ahead to engage AML and any other humans guarding the house. They smashed windows and piled inside. Guns barked and shouts of anger and pain sounded from within. Gavin charged the front doors and smashed them down. Rachelle and the others flowed inside on his heels. Bullets tore into him and Rachelle, he spun toward his attacker, but Rachelle was already moving. She ripped into the humans like a demented demon, laughing all the while. Elizabeth suddenly launched into motion, surprising him by jumping straight into the air to scramble onto the upstairs landing. Screams of fear and agony sounded from that direction, followed by blood raining down. Elizabeth laughed gaily and threw the bodies off the landing to hit the floor in front of him. She jumped down, grinning madly.

“Wipe your chin,” Gavin said. The grin vanished from her face, and she complied looking embarrassed. “You missed a spot,” he said and reached out to fix it. He chucked her under the chin. “Well done.”

She smiled happily and blushed at the praise. She had fed enough for the blush to look almost human natural. Rachelle finished her butchery and turned back for orders. He pointed the way deeper into the house and Elizabeth joined her to clear a path for him. There were a lot of humans in residence. Arcadian’s AML allies. Gavin checked and found Angelina and Spencer covering his back. The detective was keeping close, trying to cover them all. Decent of her, he thought, though he didn’t need her protection. He would take it on Angelina’s behalf.

“There!” Rachelle shouted as she dashed to follow a vampire trying to sneak away.

Elizabeth looked to Gavin uncertainly.

“Protect her!”

Elizabeth nodded and raced away.

Angelina muttered something about taking chances, and Spencer laughed. She hissed something back at him, and suddenly he was exploding out of his clothes. He was into the change. He chose his hybrid form over his wolf shape. A good choice under the circumstances. Chris muttered unhappily, but she stuck close to him.

Gavin followed his sense of where Arcadian was, leading them all through the house. A figure ducked out of a doorway ahead, and fired some kind of assault rifle. Angelina cut him in half, proving her boast that she could do that by triggering a long sustained burst from her machine guns. Chris cursed at the sight. Angelina ignored her and reloaded. Spencer edged forward to sniff at the bisected corpse. He looked up abruptly, and snarled.

“Vampire, I go,” Spencer growled and entered the room. There came the sound of snarling and shattering glass.

Gavin looked into the room only moments later, but Spencer was gone. Through the shattered windows on the far side of the room by the evidence. A breeze entered through the broken window, playing with the drapes. Howls and gunfire came from that direction. Spencer was no doubt giving chase.

“That’s great,” Chris said to Gavin. “That’s just dandy. The way we’re going it will be just you and me soon.”

Angelina snorted. “I’m not going anywhere,
De-tec-tive
. I go where Mister Gavin goes.”

“I follow her,” Flex said definitively.

“Quiet,” Gavin whispered. “He’s close...
there!
”

He darted across the hall to slam a door open. He entered the dimly lit room, noting the displays of armour and weapons. A man looked up in surprise and grabbed a sword from one of the nearby exhibits.

Gavin stopped where he was in utter shock. He knew this vampire. He studied a face he had never expected to see again, and hadn’t encountered in centuries. “Francis? Can it be truly you?” Angelina and the others entered the room and arranged themselves at his back. “Do nothing. He’s mine.”

“Garvan!” Francis said gaily. “How wonderful to see you. You’re looking well. You haven’t changed a bit, haha!”

“It’s Gavin now.”

“Not much of an alias, old friend.”

“Better than the one you’re using these days. Why use that evil bastard’s name?”

“We called him evil back then, but was he really? I don’t think he was.”

“You’ve changed if you believe that. You led us to him, helped us slay him.”

Francis shrugged. “We all make mistakes. He was a unique power in the world, and his reputation makes certain things easier. It’s just a name I use, like Alexander before this; I’ll choose another when I outgrow it.”

“Alexander?”

Francis raised his arms straight out to the side. “Surprise!”

“You were Alexander?
The
Alexander who supposedly died in Chicago?”

“Do I look dead? Don’t answer that, haha!”

Gavin shook his head sadly. Poor Francis. The passing centuries had maddened him. He remembered the man he used to call friend, and this was not he. He had changed beyond belief. He firmed his grip upon his sword. He had to end this madness.

Francis noticed his sudden tension and raised the elven blade he carried to a guard position. Gavin flowed smoothly forward, using all of his speed to strike first, but Francis was his equal in age. He defended expertly and their swords clashed, the sound of the two ancient blades singing a dissonant song. Gavin stepped back to disengage, and pivoted. The swords clashed again and then again in a flurry of thrust, parry, and counter thrust.

Chris cursed as she sighted upon Francis, but she was unable to keep him targeted. He was moving too fast. Angelina was ready for an opening, but the risk of hitting Gavin was too great. She edged around the room, trying for a better angle. Flex moved in the other direction, keeping watch upon the door as well.

Gavin was at the limit of his skill and speed, but he couldn’t get a strike through Francis’ defence. He had always been good with a sword. Both of them had bested William on occasion in practice bouts, and William had been extraordinarily good—a true sword master in a time when everyone carried a blade.

“Give up this madness!” he snarled and was finally able to draw first blood.

Francis’ eyes widened at the stinging cut upon his sword arm. “A hit!
My turn!
”

Gavin stumbled back, his cheek bleeding profusely for the few seconds it took to heal.

Francis laughed, and attacked again. “I’ve… been… practising,” he sing-songed. “You… can’t…
beat
… meeee...
ow!
”

Gavin grinned fiercely as he added another wound to the first one he’d inflicted, this time to the thigh.

Francis touched the wound and licked the blood from his fingers. “You’re better than I remember, old friend.”

“Quite,
old friend
. This plan of yours will not succeed. Kill me and you’ll still fail. Those with me will see to it, and if not them, the federal authorities are here with us.”

“Oh indeed? Well, this isn’t the first time I have evaded them.”

“You’re not leaving this place alive.”

“We’ll see, won’t we?”

Gavin nodded grimly. “We shall see.”

He charged.

Thrust, thrust, parry, parry, left, right, thrust again. High guard, low, a hit! Francis staggered back, eyes widening and blood gushed from his leg again. Gavin followed up the hit and reeled away with his own wound. His left arm suddenly lost feeling. The shoulder wound was deep enough to make the arm nerveless and unusable. He backed away desperately parrying strikes.

“Mister Gavin down!”

He threw himself to the floor as Angelina saturated the space he’d been standing in with lethal silver rain. She emptied both machine guns on full auto, and Flex joined in. Chris hammered away at Francis with aimed fire from her overpowered slug-throwing boomer. Gavin rolled away and back to his feet in time to see his old friend staggering back as bullets punched into his body, but he didn’t go down. He spun away, ducking his head for protection, and threw himself at the window. Glass shattered as he crashed through.

Gavin snarled and ran in pursuit.

His shoulder was healing, and sensation returning to his arm when he caught up with his old friend in the gardens. Francis was strong, but so much silver in him had slowed him, and his wounds weren’t healing as quickly as they normally would. He turned to defend as Gavin attacked, and the fight resumed. Angelina and the others climbed out of the window to support him, but he had the advantage now. Francis was flagging, his wounds telling upon him, as he desperately parried for all he was worth. He had abandoned his own offence in favour of defence. Gavin attacked recklessly, taking minor wounds himself in an effort to make maximum use of his advantage before Francis could heal and rally.

Strike, strike, lunge, parry. Francis absorbed more wounds, but he wasn’t going down! He was speeding up! Incredible! Gavin struggled to keep up his blistering attack, and marvelled at his old friend’s skill. He truly was a master of the sword now, and he admitted reluctantly, Francis was his superior in its use, but every new wound received was more blood lost, and no one had an infinite supply. All he had to do was keep up his current pace and wear Francis down. Time, if not his skill in the sword would win him this battle.

Gavin grunted as he took another wound to the same shoulder as before, and he retreated, flourishing his blade to create a blurring shield of ancient steel in an effort to gain room. It worked. Francis leapt back and out of range.

Chris’ gun roared, her bullets punching into Francis’ torso and upper chest. His eyes blazed red, promising retribution, and his distraction proved his undoing. He accelerated toward the cop, intending to take her head, but Gavin threw himself in the way. His sword swept around in a blurring glinting arc and this time there was no intervening blade to stop it. The blow connected. Francis’ eyes widened in surprise as his head lifted off his shoulders and fell to the ground, the stump of his neck pumping blood as his body fell aside.

“Good bye, old friend,” Gavin whispered and grimaced at the rolling eyes and snapping jaws. The head was trying to speak, but without lungs and a voice box, there was no way to know what its last words were. He preferred not knowing.

He groaned as his wounds made themselves felt. Gods, he wanted to feed and heal himself, but forced the thought aside. Sandy was waiting at home for him, and he would not disappoint her.

The detective put her gun away and approached to study the slowly dying head. She nudged it with the toe of her boot, shaking her head as it tried to bite.

“Damn,” Flex said. “That’s just nasty!”

“Yeah,” Chris said.

“Are you all right, Mister Gavin?”

“Fine, just fine.”

“You don’t look fine—” Angelina began. Her eyes widened and she shoved him aside. “
Look out!
”

Gavin staggered off balance. It was unforgivable of him. He was tired yes, wounded yes, but Angelina should not have been able to move him; she was merely human. He shouted angrily as he staggered a few paces, and then roared in denial as an arrow sprouted from Angelina’s chest. The Kevlar vest proved itself unable to protect her from a modern crossbow bolt. It punched deeply into her chest. Shock and pain flashed upon her face, and her machine gun emptied itself wildly into the air as she fell. Gavin was moving fast fast fast! The bowman was still turning to run when he caught up and struck his head from his body. He glared down at the dead vampire, still seeing Angelina’s fall.