The Damned (45 page)

“Get me out, get me out!” Heather shouted.

Antonio slid back the latch and poked in his head.

“Stay calm,” he said in English.

She flew at him. Antonio made a fist and slammed it in her face as hard as he could. Her head snapped backward. He did it again, and she tumbled to the floor.

Antonio took one step into the cage. Then another chunk of burning ceiling dislodged, slamming against the top of the cage. Antonio stumbled and reached down with one hand to steady himself.

He whirled around, shoving Sergio away as he held the cross end of a rosary in his fist. He showed it to Sergio, who was forced to look away.

“I
knew
it,” Sergio said, crestfallen, enraged.

“No. You didn’t,” Antonio replied.

Lightning fast, Antonio rammed a fist into Sergio’s face, then into his stomach. Sergio doubled over, then headbutted Antonio. Antonio’s back pressed against the superheated bars, and he roared with pain.

Clenching his jaw, Antonio grabbed on to the bars. His skin crackled and popped. His hair caught on fire. He brought his knees to his chest, extended them, and kicked Sergio hard, toward the flames. Sergio staggered backward.

“¡Traidor!”
Sergio bellowed.

Sergio lunged for Antonio. Antonio kicked him again, driving him closer to the flames.

“I loved you!” Sergio shouted.

Then the floor gave way beneath Sergio, and he fell.

“Antonio!” It was a cry of disbelief, a wounded plea, and a pledge of white-hot hatred.

Down, into the fire. Flames engulfed him. His skin broiled, charred. It flaked away. His bones ignited. Burning, blazing; he felt it, felt every assault as the fire claimed his flesh.

Above him Antonio made the sign of the cross over him.

Abomination! Monster! Betrayer!

Father, Son, Holy Spirit, as the priests had done in the Spanish Inquisition, as the monks had done when they burned the Jews; as all Christian tormentors had done to insult their victims—

“Rest in peace, Sergio,” Antonio called.

My sire
, Sergio called out in his agony.
My sire!
He no longer worshipped Orcus. He worshipped the true god, his sire, whose name was—

Sergio was gone. Antonio had killed his sire. He spared a moment for victory and remorse.

Then Antonio dashed into Heather’s cage and scooped her up. He flew through the basement as it crumbled like a house of cards.

“Please, Blessed Virgin,” he prayed, taking the stairs two, three at a time as the staircase burned. “Please let me get her out of here. Please let me save her.”

But once he reached the exterior of the building, he saw that he should have prayed for a lot more than that.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I
HAVE LEFT THE SEMINARY.
T
ONIGHT MY CONTACT WILL FIND ME AT THE TAVERN CALLED
E
L
C
OCODRILO, AND
I
WILL JOIN THE
F
REE
F
RENCH
F
ORCES.
I
WILL BECOME A
M
AQUIS, AND
I
WILL PROBABLY DIE.

I’
M READY.

—
FROM THE DIARY OF
A
NTONIO DE LA
C
RUZ,
FOUND ROTTING IN THE CATACOMBS

S
ALAMANCA
T
EAM
S
ALAMANCA

Holgar glanced over at Jenn as she clicked off her cell phone. They were standing just off the N-630, about a kilometer from the university. The air was redolent with oily smoke. Holgar wondered where the fire had been, and if anyone had been hurt.

“Still no answer,” Jenn said, as their two taxis sped off. Given the precarious status of the school, they had decided it wasn’t safe to ask the drivers to take them all the way to the gates. Wearily, they hoisted their luggage and started walking.

“Maybe they’re tidying up the place to welcome us home,” Skye said.

Despite Jenn’s inability to get Father Juan to answer the phone, Holgar couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. It was good to be back in Spain. He, for one, was looking forward to a hot shower and some raw meat.

“Do you smell that smoke?” Holgar asked the others. “There’s been a fire.”

“Yes, I smell it,” Noah said.

“You don’t have to be a feckin’ werewolf to smell
that”
Jamie said. “When we get home, I’m talking to Father Juan about that black-cross bastard, Greg.”

“Jamie, please, leave off,” Skye said wearily. “You’ve been talking about that nonstop.”

“Hai,”
Eriko murmured. “I think you need to calm down.” She looked terrible. Holgar was very worried about her. Everyone had been focusing on Antonio, but at least as a vampire he was guaranteed good health.

Taamir walked by himself, looking a bit lonely. Holgar slowed down until they were walking side by side, giving him a pleasant smile.

“Ready to see your sister?” Noah asked Jenn. He took her hand. “And Antonio?”

Holgar looked at their clasped hands, and the troubled expression on Jenn’s face.

Life at home would be interesting, that was for sure.

They rounded the bend in the road. Holgar glanced in the direction of the university, expecting to see the gates and, behind them, the beautiful gingerbread buildings.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The university wasn’t there.

“What the hell?” Jamie shouted.

“Am I hallucinating?” Jenn cried.

“No,” Skye said slowly, her voice thick with pain. “It’s . . . gone.”

They all ran. The buildings were piles of rubble and ash, as though they had been toppled over and their contents burned. A few walls remained amidst the destruction, but not many.

Bodies littered the ground everywhere they looked.

“What happened here?” Eriko asked, voice shaking.

“Oh, my Goddess, dear Goddess,” Skye whispered, swaying as if overcome.

“Do something,” Jenn shouted at her as she slid to her knees before a heap of smoking brick and wood. “Heather! Antonio! Father Juan!”

A howl escaped Holgar as he grabbed burning bricks and tossed them over his shoulders.

“Vampires,” Noah said, as he joined Jenn. He pointed to several nearby piles of ash. They began to dig together, through the rubble, searching for survivors.

“And werewolves,” Holgar added, a deep sense of anger and shame filling him. He could smell the wolves, their musk lingering in the air just under the stench of death.

Jamie swore so long that Holgar began to think he wouldn’t stop. Skye’s gasps blanketed the terrible destruction. Stakes, crosses, and intact vials of holy water littered the ground.

“I don’t see them,” Jenn said, plowing through burned timbers and shattered bricks. Her hands were bleeding. “Heather!” she shrieked. “Antonio!”

“Father!” Jamie bellowed.

“The students, the teachers—are they all dead?” Skye asked, her voice a high-pitched wail. “Father Juan?”

“Only one way to find out,” Jenn said, her voice breaking. “We need to be systematic. Cover the grounds slowly. Move forward in a wave. Don’t run off.”

She moved woodenly over to the nearest body. A girl lay on her stomach. Jenn turned her over. Blank eyes stared upward, bloody bite marks providing the only color to her pale throat.

“Feckin’ hell,” Jamie said, crossing himself. Slowly they spread out and began checking the bodies for signs of life, or for the faces of friends or mentors.

Holgar knelt next to one body and felt deep regret as he saw that it was Master Molina. The martial arts instructor had taught him so much about fighting in human form and hadn’t been afraid to spar with him. Another involuntary howl escaped Holgar.

Sensing movement off to his left, he inhaled the stench of garlic so strong it nearly gagged him. The smell was coming from a body lying underneath a stone pillar. Its legs were starting to move.

Holgar picked up the pillar and threw it off the dark-skinned girl who was trapped beneath it. He couldn’t remember her name, but he recognized her. She groaned and moved her arm up to her head, then slowly opened her eyes.

“Over here!” Holgar shouted. “Survivor!”

Moments later the others gathered around. “I think she’s one of the new students,” Jenn murmured.

Holgar helped the girl sit up while Skye began working some of her healing magick.

As the girl slumped forward, she looked around at them, recognition lighting up her face. Then her eyes focused on the destruction all around them, and tears cut a path down her cheeks through the dirt and the ash.

“What’s your name?” Jenn asked.

“Sade,” the girl said hoarsely, pronouncing it “Sha-day.”

“What happened here?” Jenn gently wiped the ash from Sade’s forehead.

“We were attacked. Vampires, werewolves. Some of the werewolves looked like wolves and some like people. They overran us.” Sade’s voice was hollow. “There were so many.”

“It wasn’t a full moon. How were the werewolves in wolf form?” Jenn demanded, turning to look at Holgar.

He cleared his throat. There was so much about his kind that he had never bothered sharing, had never thought he would have to.

Before Holgar could answer, Eriko asked, “Are there any other survivors? Do you think so,
Sade-chan?”

Sade held her head as if she were in great pain. “I don’t know. A lot of people died before the vampire hit me with the pillar,” she said. “But I didn’t see . . .
all this.”

They stared at her for a silent moment.

“‘And I only am escaped alone to tell thee,’” Jamie whispered at last, muscles working in his cheeks, the vein in his neck throbbing.

Something is still wrong here
, Holgar thought. He sniffed the air and could smell—

“Let’s finish checking the others,” Jenn said, her voice quavering as she looked around.

“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” a voice called mockingly.

Holgar’s heart plummeted. Then he growled deep and low in his heart.

“Oh, Goddess,” Skye murmured beside him. “Protect us.”

Clad in a black catsuit, body armor covering her chest, heavy boots protecting her legs and feet, Aurora stood at the place that had once been the entrance gates.

Estefan stood beside her, dressed for battle. Behind them, a dozen vampires, spread out.

And . . . werewolves.

There were at least ten, most in wolf form, a few of the younger ones in human form. Holgar recognized Acton and Balduin, his former schoolmates. Falentin, who got him drunk when he was only twelve. It was his pack, from Denmark.

And they were led by their alpha: a huge wolf, golden fur rippling in the wind. Two gold eyes, teeth bared, lips flared. Ears back. Haunches taut, in preparation for taking down prey.

Holgar’s father.

Betraying no humanity, no recognition, no pity.

Holgar fought his impulse to submit, to cower. Or let his heart break.

He trembled, but stood firm.

The wolf growled.

The Salamancans spread out in a line, protecting Sade. Like clockwork they raised the stakes and holy water they’d gathered from the ground.

“We make our stand here, now,” Jenn said. “Stay strong.”

“Salamanca,” they all chorused.

Aurora grinned as she and her gang advanced. In the darkness behind them Holgar spotted more shapes milling and shifting.

“Did you come back to gloat, you bitch?” Jamie shouted.

“Where’s Antonio? Where’s my sister?” Jenn screamed at her.

Ignoring them, the vampire approached, stepping through the rubble. “Oh, Sergio. This is so like him.”

“Sergio is Antonio’s sire,” Skye said, somewhere behind Holgar.

“Yes, I know,” Noah replied.

“His humiliated, mortified sire,” Aurora confirmed. “I was going to do this so much more . . . tastefully.” She bared her fangs. “But Sergio is so macho. He gets messy when he’s angry.” She gestured to the rubble. “And he likes explosions, no?”

“Antonio!” Jenn called desperately. “Heather!”

Aurora tsk-tsked. “This was such a beautiful university. It was founded three centuries before I was born. I had relatives who studied here. I would never have burned it down.”

“Tell us where they are,” Noah said, “or we’ll open fire.”

“Really.” Aurora’s red eyes focused on him. “And you would be?”

“A fellow Jew,” Noah said.

She laughed. “Good try. You’re macho too. Maybe tonight you’ll live . . . the longest.”

“No one here is dying tonight,” Taamir said.

Aurora chuckled. “Oh, dear. This is so very, very sad. Sergio must be hitting his head against a wall in frustration. You weren’t here, were you? He showed up and he didn’t get to kill any of you.” She hesitated. “Did he get Antonio?”

“We
fought Sergio,” Eriko said. “We
killed
him.” Then she coughed.

“Ay.”
Aurora burst out laughing. Estefan, the vampires, and Holgar’s former friends joined in.

“He does appear to be long gone. But he left his wolves behind, to clean up, so to speak. Amazingly, they’re easy to seduce too.” She smiled at Acton, who smiled back, ignoring Holgar.

“His pets,” Aurora drawled, amused as Falentin wandered over to her and lowered his head, a wolf gesture of submission.

Pets
. Holgar stared at his father, hoping the word had penetrated his wolf brain. But his father appeared to be lost to bloodlust, as he had been the night he had killed the man in the forest back in Denmark.

“Vale,”
Aurora said with an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s all right. Sergio can make his grand gestures. I know who our sire loves best.”

Holgar’s father eyed Holgar. Holgar’s mother had died when Holgar was a pup. His father had raised him, had taught him everything. His father had been hard on Holgar when he’d needed it. He’d killed a man to save Holgar. Now his father’s wolf eyes were burning right through, looking at him and through him with disdain. His muzzle was coated with the blood of the students. Holgar pulled his lips back from his teeth and felt a rumbling start deep in his chest.