Ibenus (Valducan series) (40 page)

Malcolm seemed to dance between the flanking demons, Hounacier a blur, clacking off bony sabers. He threw his palm into one’s face, stunning it long enough for him to skewer the other monster. It fell burning into the water as a third mantismere leaped between the pillars like some jungle animal and landed on the wall above him.

She started to cry a warning when something slammed into her from behind. Sharp pain shot through Victoria's back. She hit the floor hard, her helmet the only thing saving her from a split skull. Ibenus fell from her stunned fingers and skittered across the floor.

The stabbing pain below her shoulder twisted and ripped free, eliciting a howl. Someone was shouting in her radio but she couldn’t make it out over the terrible
clicking
just above.

Legs pinned, Victoria twisted to see the mantismere raise its forelimbs. Blood tipped its right point and Victoria was at once acutely aware of the wetness spreading down her back. The beast’s black eyes locked on hers. The sabers came down. Victoria rolled, dodging one, while the other raked across her vest. The demon gave a guttural hiss and chittered its mandibles angrily.

Craning her head, she saw Ibenus on the floor. She reached out but it was too far. The demon’s weight shifted, readying for another strike.

Beyond the sword, Victoria spied Orlovski running toward her across the water. “Down!” The Russian leaped, springing upward as if propelled on a trampoline. Cresting his ascent, he hurled Amballwa. The spinning kukri flew toward her like a silver disk. Victoria pressed herself into the floor, bracing for the blow. The holy blade slammed into the mantismere above her just as Orlovski came down with an enormous splash, vanishing beneath the water.

“Taras,” Chaya cried, voice echoing across the chamber and blasting through the radio.

The flailing demon rolled off Victoria's back. Scrambling, she grabbed Ibenus. She swung, appearing upright and facing it. The monster rolled, clawing at the jeweled kukri buried in its upper chest. Victoria lopped the mantismere’s head off, unleashing the blue fire.

Hesitantly, she touched the wetness pouring down her spine and the back of her legs. Expecting blood on her glove, she released a sigh at seeing only water. The beast had punctured the drinking bladder in her pack. Her shoulder still hurt but it was a small price for what she'd expected.

“Taras hasn’t come up,” Chaya yelled, her voice ragged with panic.

Fear stealing her relief, Victoria wheeled to see the water still sloshing and bubbling where the Russian had gone under. Malcolm was racing along the ledge toward her, machete coated in burning blood and the bodies of three demons behind him. Blood trickled from a fresh cut along his right wrist.

Victoria ran to the edge and dropped to her knees, scanning the surface. There was no sign of him.
Shit. Oh, shit
. If Orlovski drowned trying to save her—
No, he has to be here
. She thrust her arm down into the frigid water.
Please. Please
.

"Eeeel!" Malcolm roared, pointing his Machete at the tower.

Dämoren's shots rang like a chain of thunder claps.

Spouts of water from missed bullets geysered around a long rubbery form sliding from the base of the tower. One round punched through its flat tail as it kicked up a splash before vanishing beneath the surface. How long it was she couldn't have said, but it was definitely bigger than the ten feet Allan had told her, a lot bigger. And now it was in the same water as her arm, the same water where Orlovski was drowning.

Sliding further over the ledge Victoria swept her arm, blindly feeling.
Come on. Come on
.

A cold current moved across her arm. Brown silt stirred, and then a gloved hand burst from the surface only a few feet beside her, the droplets splattering her cheek. The hand sank then came up again, clawing at the edge.

"Taras." She clambered toward it as the hand sank again and drove her arm after it. Blindly, her fingers found his muscled forearm. He clamped onto her wrist and she heaved him upward, her wounded shoulder screaming at the strain.

Orlovski erupted from the water, coughing and sputtering. His glasses, pack, and vest were gone. The Russian pulled himself to the edge gagging up muddy water.

Victoria pulled his arm. "Come on. It's in the water!"

Panting, Orlovski blinked as if trying to understand. A serpentine swish broke the surface behind him.

"Out! Now!" Malcolm ordered, his boots pounding the ground toward them.

As if on automatic, Orlovski pulled himself up, swinging his legs over the lip.

A pale, noseless face burst from the water behind him, its open mouth a multi-rowed symphony of fangs.

Victoria fell backward in surprise, landing painfully on her ass. Orlovski screamed. The monster shot out to strike when Dämoren boomed. Blood exploded from the eel's flank. The beast jerked, slamming against Orlovski as it fled from the water, swimming through the air.

Victoria swung Ibenus, appearing upright. She lunged at the eel as it slithered past. The glistening tail whipped to the side, Ibenus missing it by inches.

Two more shots rang. One kicked up stone and the other tore a ragged gash down its side. The beast rolled in the air, slinging blood and dirty water. Shrieking with a woman's voice, it flew away, undulating through the air, and vanished down the passage.

Malcolm charged after it. "It's getting away."

Victoria turned to Orlovski.

Coughing, the Russian waved her on. "I'll catch up."

She turned to follow Malcolm but paused. Orlovski had no light. She offered her pistol. "Here. Two in the mag, one in the pipe."

He accepted it, still hacking. "Go!"

Gripping Ibenus tight, she raced down the tunnel after Malcolm's bobbing light. Chips of rock and bone sagged and dripped from the walls, trailing strands of melting silk. It caught in her clothes and along Ibenus' blade. A single hole burrowed through the vinegar-stinking web, plowed open by both the eel and Malcolm's passing.

She spared only glances at the passing rooms of crumbling nests and mosaics. Her boots crunched over the loose gravel and she had to blink to keep from losing her footing. The passage curved, revealing Malcolm's light close ahead.

He crouched beside an open pit, pulling a coil of nylon rope from his bag. The climbing harness lay crumpled at his feet, hardware glinting. "It went down there."

Cautiously, she peered over the edge. The round shaft was easily five feet across, smooth walls straight down. Fresh blood streaked the white stone. An orange glow stick blazed forty feet below. "Bloody hell."

Malcolm swiveled his head around the room. "Need to tie off somewhere. Luiza, how fast can you get down here?"

"We're getting Chaya in the harness now," Luiza replied. "She lost mobility in her right side when one of those little bastards bit her."

Orlovski's light jogged down the passage toward them.

Victoria peered back down the well again. If the eel got away this would start all over. Another city, another horde. Gerhard's death would be for nothing. Allan's suffering would be for nothing.

Malcolm shouted something behind her, but Victoria wasn't listening.

She raised Ibenus before her. "I'm going down."

Malcolm's frantic jingling stopped. "What?"

"Taras can help you down. Catch up." Without waiting a reply, Victoria stepped off the lip and plunged into the pit. Wind flapped her clothes as she accelerated. Her stomach lurched and rose. Holding her breath, she watched the orange light flying up toward her.

Closer.

Closer.

She swung.

Whoosh
.

Victoria landed with a light jolt, knees bending. Ibenus before her, she whirled, ready for an attack. The passage was empty. Sagging tile-work covered three walls. To her left, a single tunnel led away, a hole in the curtain of hanging threads. She clicked her headlamp to full brightness and drew her final glow stick, unleashing a green light with a crunch.

She pulled the chattering plug from her ear and listened. Silence.

Holding the glow stick high so as not to blind herself, she started down the passage. Occasional drops of wet blood sprinkled the floor. Her old partner James would have said it was bleeding like a stuck pig, though he admitted to having never seen a butchering. Now he was dead and the mother of his killer was wounded. Desperate.

The tunnel opened into a broad chamber, just a few feet taller than herself. Boulders littered the far side. Two passages opened to her left. Torn webs framed the closer one.

Victoria started for it, but noticed a spattering of blood leading to the right. She spun, to see the giant human-faced eel woven into the rocks, easing out toward her.

The monster paused. It blinked its black eyes. "I don't know you."

"No," she breathed, taken aback that it had spoken.

"You carry Zhygan. Ibenus." It cocked its head curiously. "Is Allan dead?"

"He's alive."

"I see. I knew him. Very well. He used to hover around me, peeking down my blouse. He didn't know that I knew."

"Anya?" Victoria took step back, eyes locked on the human-faced monster.

"So he told you about me. Allan was always trying to fuck me." The creature smiled, revealing a hint of those wicked fangs. "But I wouldn't."

Malcolm's shouts echoed up the passage beside her. He was coming.
Just keep it talking
.

The demon's head remained motionless, but the rest of its body slid out, slowly coiling, the muscles tense. Blood dribbled from its bullet wounds, spattering the dust. "Appears he finally found a slut that would."

"Fuck you."

The eel tittered. "You're not my type."

A sudden warning flashed in the back of Victoria's mind.

Not taking time to think, she swung and blinked away as a mantismere that had been sneaking up behind her skewered the now empty air. She slashed, hooking the blade around and into the back of the monster's skull. Blue fire filled the room, chasing away the shadows.

Shrieking in rage, the eel sprang, jaws wide.

Victoria ducked, coming up as the eel stuck at her again. Leaping to the side, she hacked Ibenus into the monster's belly as it passed, splitting through the rubbery skin. The eel crashed into the floor, coiling and writhing. Blood and organs spilled from the terrible gash. The demon screamed, lashing out toward her.

Feinting an attack to meet it, Victoria swung, blinked, and appeared beside the monster. The eel looked in time to see the arcing sword but not in time to avoid it. Ibenus chopped into its neck, severing bone in a spray of blood.

Brilliant amber fire burst from the gory wound. The demon eel balled and rolled, its head flopping by only a sliver of connected skin. Shielding her eyes, Victoria stepped away, afraid of being struck in its death throes. Golden orange flames dripped from the khopesh's bronze blade, beautiful like liquid sunrise.

Footsteps clomped up from behind her. She looked back to see Malcolm racing up the tunnel.

He stopped and stared at the burning eel. Blowing out a long sigh, he turned toward her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, releasing a shuddering breath. "I'm fine."

Malcolm snorted, then laughed. "Damn right you are." He pulled her into a hug.

Victoria winced, her wounded shoulder screaming.

"You fucking did it." He broke the embrace and pumped his fist. "Luiza, Victoria killed the eel. Repeat, the eel is dead."

Vaguely aware of the chatter in the bud dangling beside her ear. Victoria watched the burning monster. It was gone. The last of the mantismeres had been born. They were an endangered species now. She'd done it. More than anything she wanted to tell Allan, tell him Ibenus,
their
sword had killed it.

But she couldn't go back.
Not yet
.

"Come on." Malcolm patted her shoulder. "We need to see to Chaya. Get her to a doctor. The rest of the demons have made a break for it. Maybe we can catch the stragglers before they escape."

Victoria nodded. She gestured to the cut in Malcolm's wrist. It was straight, like a knife wound. Nothing like what the mantismeres did. "Are you all right?"

"This?" Grinning he wiped at the blood, eyeing it appraisingly. A faint scar was visible there in the bright amber light. A ghostly shape like a beetle. "Don't worry about it. Little reward for a triple-kill."

"Then let's get out of here."

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Smile for the camera, bitch." Tommy tapped his computer's touchpad. The black and white footage restarted, showing an arched catacomb tunnel extending into darkness.

Two figures emerged from an intersecting passage thirty feet ahead. The first, was rail-thin, tall, his charcoal black skin nearly the same shade as his clothes. Despite his lankiness, there was an elegance to him, as if each movement had been carefully choreographed. A short axe with a long, slender head, hung from the man's belt. He glanced either way up the tunnel. The light of his headlamp flared as it passed the hidden night vision camera, and he continued on. A petite woman followed behind him. What he first mistook for long hair, Tommy now recognized as a shawl draped along the back of her neck. She carried a thick broadsword, almost too large for such a small woman. Her gaze zeroed instantly on the camera, blinding it under her headlamp's glow. She held the stare a full five seconds, her head appearing like a miniature sun, before turning away and continuing on.

Tommy clicked the pad again, stopping the video. Smiling, he saved the clip under the title, 'Scarecrow and Mrs. Sword - Paris,' and moved it to his 'Hunter Footage' folder. Pins and needles tickled his numbed fingers as he typed. The swelling in his arm had gone down, though it was still puffy. A numb streak still ran the length of his arm, spreading down his little finger and half of his ring finger. The ulnar nerve, he'd learned. But he had full mobility so he wasn't worried.

Tommy sipped his Corsica Cola, a French Coke knockoff that he strangely preferred. The footage he'd gathered before fleeing the catacombs was hands-down the best he'd ever taken. High-resolution videos of those crying spiders and even of the larger clawed monsters.