Natural Consequences (65 page)

Inhumanly strong hands.

Alex flew off his feet, lifted like a rag doll and slammed down onto a desk by his assailant. He heard Hauser shout and fire off a couple more rounds, followed by a crash.

Even without the lights on, Alex recogniz
ed his assailant. He still had that same red beard and scraggly hair, the same towering figure and the same runes worked into his mail shirt. The leather jacket he wore over his armor made little difference. The blade in his hands was doubtlessly modern steel, but it held to a pattern set centuries ago.

A bullet burst through Unferth’s chest from behind, doing little more than causing him to jerk a bit and snapping some rings of his mail.

“Back off!” Hauser shouted.

“Bjorn,” grunted Unferth.

Alex saw another dark shape sweep by, heard another couple of shots from Hauser’s pistol and then a crash. Alex rolled off the desk out of Unferth’s reach. He dodged around the other vampire, rushing to get to Hauser. As he suspected, Bjorn already had the agent’s arms in a tangle. Bjorn’s mouth opened wide, fangs bared.

Throwing out a low, sweeping kick, Alex struck Bjorn right at the knee. The vampire’s leg buckled and he stumbled. Unferth’s hands grabbed Alex from behind again, throwing him backward onto the floor.

“Drink, brother,” Unferth told the other vampire. “I’ll finish this.”

“Just like you to fight a bound man, Unferth,” Alex snapped. He twisted and scrambled to get to his feet again, still handicapped by the cuffs on his hands.

The pair froze at his statement. Bjorn momentarily forgot about his meal. He lifted Hauser off his feet and threw him into a set of file cabinets against the wall, which collapsed under the strain.

“You know us,” said Unferth in a tongue Alex barely recognized. He understood the words only because they were so simple. “How?”

If either vampire felt the slightest surprise, it didn’t show. They were fighting men, though, accustomed to focusing through distractions and unexpected developments. Neither would let their guard down over the words of a cornered and unarmed man.

Just looking at the pair caused his blood to boil. He only remembered snippets. “You left me to die,” Alex growled. “I came home to find my wife carrying another man’s child because she thought I was dead
, and then everyone called her a whore. She suffered because of
you
.”

“Skorri,” gasped Bjorn in recognition.

Alex blinked. He knew that name. He couldn’t remember his face, or his voice, or his home, but he remembered what happened. He remembered how Skorri and Halla died.

He remembered what Skorri
—what Alex—could do if his hands were free.

Unferth and Bjorn closed in from two sides, backing Alex toward a corner of the office. He leapt up onto a desk, scrambling to move away, but the vampires were too quick. Bjorn snapped his sword up to slap at Alex’s ankle with the flat of his blade, tripping the young man and leaving him tumbling to the floor.

“My neck hasn’t healed yet,” Bjorn managed in a raspy voice. “Must we keep him alive?”

“Feed on the other one,” said Unferth, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. He loomed large in Alex’s field of vision as the young man scrambled back to his feet again. Behind him, Bjorn turned his attention toward Hauser—and the sudden white light that flared through the room from his direction.

“Back!” Hauser ordered. Though winded and bruised, Hauser walked toward the two vampires with his crucifix held forth. The pair shrank away, arms held up to shield their eyes. Alex saw that the light wasn’t from Hauser himself. Some came from his crucifix. Most of it came from a tall figure behind him, with broad white wings and a halo bright enough to chase away the shadows.

“There you are, you fucking asshat!” shouted a familiar voice from the hallway.

The angel behind Hauser turned his head toward the voice with a snap. So did Hauser. So did Alex.

Rachel shot over the rows of desks at the other angel in the blink of an eye. She tackled him straight through the wall, instantly plunging the room into darkness once more.

Bjorn recovered his wits quickly. He rushed toward Alex, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to his knees. Looming over Alex from behind, Bjorn snarled at Alex with his fangs bared as he leaned in to bite.

Then he let go with a
sudden jerk. Alex scrambled forward to get clear and then turned to see Lorelei with her hands on the vampire’s arms, bending them back in a struggle of raw strength. Bjorn’s hips jutted forward under the strain of Lorelei’s knee at the small of his back. Alex could hear the cracking of bone inside Bjorn’s torso.

She let go of Bjorn’s arms to take up his sword and a fistful of his hair. Lorelei
tugged his head to one side to expose his neck and brought the blade clean through it in one brutal, bloody swipe.

“No,” came a choked cry from Unferth. “No!” He snatched up the thin axe from his belt and hurled it at Lorelei, planning to follow up with a charge—but faltered when he saw
the axe strike against her cheek and fall away.

The blow did hardly more than to briefly turn her head. Lorelei calmly strode toward the vampire. Unferth drew his sword, met her gaze… and backed away, step for step
as she approached, until he leapt out the window.

Alex watched in awe, unsure of what to say. She turned back to him then, moving with deliberate speed and purpose. “I have keys,” she said. “Let me get you out of those things.”

“Stop!” someone demanded. Standing only a few feet away, Hauser drew down on Lorelei with his gun in one hand and his crucifix in the other.

“I just saved your life, Agent Hauser.”

“For the sake of whatever angle you have, sure,” he huffed. “You’re just as bad as those—“

He’d have fired if he saw the slightest threatening move, but the tail didn’t appear in his vision until it snatched the gun out of his hand. Lorelei followed up with a hard backhanded slap that sent him to the floor. Hauser’s head slammed into a desk on his way down, knocking him unconscious.

With that, Lorelei turned her attention to Alex, absently taking the gun from her tail with her left hand as she walked. She stepped around Alex, deftly releasing him from his handcuffs. “Our friends are in danger,” she said. “This place already smells of death.”

“What happened with Rachel just now?”

“Hauser’s powers of faith are counterfeit. Rachel is dealing with the source. It may take her some time. Are you well? Can you fight?”

“I think so. Thanks for the save. That was…” he paused, looking
down at Bjorn’s ashes. “This guy ruined my life. A long time ago. Him and the other one.”

Lorelei held out Bjorn’s sword. “You are my love
, my partner and my first and best friend. Your debts are mine to pay.”

* * *

She almost lost him. Donald squirmed and struggled against Rachel, doing all he could to break from her hold as they tumbled through the air. Her wings kept them both aloft. Donald beat his wings against her as he slipped out of her grasp. Three seconds of panicked effort bore fruit as he worked out of her arms and soared into the sky.

He hardly made it three yards before Rachel escalated to fighting dirty. She snatched at the bottom edges of a wing and yanked hard. Donald fell back with an unmanly squawk.

Then she grabbed his hair with both hands. Donald shrieked as she pulled him downward again. The two fell through the air, but only Rachel had any control. She landed on her feet. He landed on his head and back—hard. The fog in the air had just begun to give way to rain, but none of that made for a softer impact.

“Mother
fucker
,” she snarled, “did you think I was finished with you? After the shit you pulled?”

“What—Rachel, no!
Don’t hit me!”

She punched him in the face. Rachel then grabbed hold of his wrist, twisting it and refusing to let go. The pleading noises in his grunts and gasps disgusted her. “Do you
cry like this every time you run into someone who can act on your level?” she asked. “Is this why you push all your charges into becoming fucking heroes? Does it make up for your total lack of guts when it’s not your ass on the line?”

“Stop—no!” denied the battered angel. “It’s not like that!”

It was only then, glaring at Donald and waiting for him to explain himself, that Rachel noticed the pops and booms of gunfire. In the sudden rush to nab Donald, Rachel had abandoned her situational awareness. It came rushing back to her now with new and distressing revelations.

All around the building lurked dark shapes, many of them firing guns or moving in with blades drawn.
She heard screams from inside.

“You can’t fight me and save lives at the same time,” huffed Donald.

Rachel jerked on his twisted wrist. “How did—how are you so quick to point that out?” she demanded. “Did you see this coming?
What did you do, Donald?
”

Someone else cried out in pain. “Is beating me worth letting mortals die?” asked Donald.

Again, Rachel looked to the building, but then something blocked her view. It emerged from the shadow of a tree, eight feet tall and covered with fur. She couldn’t hear the sniff of the werewolf’s nose over all of the gunfire, but its body language was quite plain. The monster gave several quick yelps as it moved in, circling close but apparently unable to see the angels just yet.

Others appeared from several directions
.

“Why are there werewolves here?” Rachel asked. “Why aren’t they fighting with the—Donald, what the fuck is going on?”

“How should I know?” Donald shot back. He tried to scramble away, less from Rachel than from the predators now forming a ring around them. Rachel held him in place.

Her mind raced. She couldn’t trust Donald to help, but she couldn’t count on him to run, either. The vampires presented more than enough of a
danger to the mortals all by themselves. A pack of werewolves this large made for a much greater threat. If they were actually working together as it appeared…

The pack had their scent. The ones in wolf form reared up on their hind legs and grew into monstrous humanoid shapes. Those already in such a form crouched low as if ready to pounce.

She couldn’t take herself out of the fight by pinning Donald down, but she couldn’t let him run free, either.

“Time to be a guardian, Donald,” she
grunted. Rachel heaved him up and yanked him around again.

“What—wait, what are you—?”

Donald let out a shriek of helpless terror as she literally threw him to the wolves. He tumbled into two of them, who turned on him with teeth and claws.

Rachel’s sword of flame erupted from her palm. The rest of the pack saw her immediately and shifted their focus on the new prey.

* * *

“Dammit, Wentworth, give the order!”

“No,” the other vampire murmured, his head slowly shaking. “No, we mustn’t rush in. Something is… strange here.” His gaze drifted all along the building façade. Questions and concerns teased at his mind. Details of the plan flitted out of his memory. He couldn’t remember the names of his companions.

“You heard the gunfire inside,” pressed the man beside him. Wentworth knew the man’s name—or knew he should. The brace of black-powder pistols in his fat leather belt seemed familiar. Wentworth imagined him in ancient sailor’s rags, but those would have fallen apart long ago, which must have led him to this ridiculous set of cut-off black jeans and his tight shirt. “There was more on the other side of the building just now, and—are you even listening to me?”

“Hm? What?” Wentworth blinked, tearing his gaze off the sailor’s shoes. “Of course I am listening! I am trying to listen for clues as to what transpires inside, if you don’t mind.”

“There!” blurted out the fallen Catholic priest to Wentworth’s right. Wentworth couldn’t quite remember his name, either. The priest pointed, somewhat melodramatically, to the front of the building as the main entrance flew open. A single figure staggered out, carrying one body and dragging another with him. Wentworth frowned. Didn’t they send five people in? Or more?

Rosario. That was her name. Rosario and... Rupert? Where was Rosario now? Wentworth saw a great deal of blood smeared across Rupert’s chin, neck and chest. So sloppy. And those bullet holes through his shirt and jacket did him no credit. “What have you to report?” asked Wentworth.

“Stronger resistance than expected, sir,” said Rupert. “Unferth ran off alone in defiance of orders, and then we got into a scuffle with these ones and some others.” He dumped the bodies of Nguyen and
Lanier at Wentworth’s feet. “They have a SWAT team or some such inside, sir. I’m not sure how large. We lost Francois and Rosario ran off after one mortal who escaped the fight. She ordered me to bring these two out as she ran off.”

“This much trouble from mortals with guns?” sneered the priest.

“Begging your pardon, sir,” Rupert frowned, “but if you’d like to experience a firing squad like Francois met, I’m sure it could be arranged. I’d be in awful shape myself but for the three freshly dead inside there to drink from,” he added, nodding back to the building.