Chapter Twenty-FourSalvator
Chapter Twenty-Four
Salvator
“Red team in place,” Jethro’s voice sounded in my earpiece.
“Blue team at the front of the building,” Paulo added.
“The black team are like the bats in the belfry, ready to strike,” Dominic said and I felt like groaning. Why could he not just use the same terminology as everyone else?
“Roger that,” I replied. “On my mark.”
This was not a friendly visit, nor was it one to take prisoners. The time for negotiations had vanished long ago. The world deserved to be rid of these vermin and their evil acts purged.
We had limited magic users, and Maia needed as many as possible to protect the base, brew potions, and scan wolves as they returned to ensure they hadn’t been whammied. Therefore, our team didn’t have any witches on it, but a niggling voice whispered that Dominic was more than he pretended.
I didn’t knock the door or wait to be invited in. Instead, my boot connected with the wood where the locking mechanism should be, shattering it and sending the lock clattering to the floor.
That was the signal the rest of my team had been waiting for. I heard another door being destroyed, followed by the sound of shattering glass.
I strode into the old chapel complex with a gun in each hand. The blaster was still attached to the strap on my leg because there was something about the smell of spent ammunition in the air that made my wolf almost hum with satisfaction. A warlock emerged from a door on the left, and stumbled back when I double tapped him in the head, both bullets entering through the same hole.
I tossed a hand grenade into the room he had exited because they were rarely on their own. A scream echoed when it detonated, and a sadistic smile curved my lips. It was good to be me again, and every single lycan loved violence in the very fibre of our being. I embraced it and continued to walk through the building. Gunshots sounded somewhere behind me, and there was a bloodcurdling scream to my right. I stopped, watching in horror as Dominic descended from the ceiling on top of a warlock. His fingers looked more like talons as he tore the magic user’s heart from his chest and threw it on the floor.
“Filthy animal,” Dominic snarled. “He was trying to curse Paulo.”
It was only then that I noticed Paulo on the floor with an injury to his shoulder. “I’m fine,” Paulo said. “Just a scratch.”
It looked more than a scratch, but this wasn’t the time or the place to argue with him. We needed to clear this rats’ nest of the rodents who were infesting the house of God.
The prickle of magic touched my skin and my head snapped up, my sight lightening, which meant my eyes were glowing. Dominic’s body language changed as well, a feral grin slowly spreading across his face.
“It looks like someone wants to play,” the vampire said, his fingers flexing.
I may have been spellbound, but Luna had created my amulet and added a few spells of her own, one of which meant that no spell could influence me. I felt the touch of magic as it sought out a victim. Instead of cowering under the power of it, I strode forward, seeking out who was casting.
The next few minutes were filled with the metallic scent of blood as we slaughtered everything in our paths. The magic users couldn’t affect Dominic or me, and while the others were left behind in the main body of the chapel, the vampire and I made our way through the lesser magic users and guards who had been sent as cannon fodder.
A soldier jumped down from the rafters on top of me, knocking me to the floor. I rolled over, wrapping my arm around his neck, my legs holding him captive as I pulled at his head with my full strength. A sickening flesh-ripping sound echoed as his head detached from his shoulders. My wolf howled in glee since he had been fully let off his leash to create havoc.
I jumped up, my claws elongating as my gun was long forgotten. Dire wolves possessed a hybrid form between human and wolf, utilising the strengths of both species. The blood of my enemies was splattered on me, and a loud growl rumbled from my chest. To destroy the monsters sent to try and subjugate us, we needed to release the beasts inside us.
I stretched my arms wide, my muscles bunching as I howled my anger, the windows shaking in their frames. My wolf added his strength to mine until we were one being, our minds focusing on the fight.
A fresh wave of expendable soldiers entered the rear of the complex. Balor had been employing mercenaries in recent years as more and more dire wolves escaped his grasp and defected to our side of the war. What none of us realised was that they had been spellbound before they reached us.
All my frustration and anger erupted, and I ripped into anything that moved too close to me. My claws were designed to eviscerate my enemy, my canines to tear into their flesh, and I didn’t care that I had become a creature of nightmares. I relished the aroma of blood, the thick, warm fluid spurting and landing on me. It was the mark of a warrior, as no wolf ever exited battle without being covered in the blood of their enemies as proof of their success.
Balor’s mercenaries were strong, but both Dominic and I were faster than their human reflexes. The magic users were chanting and trying to prevent us from going any further.
I grabbed one of the warlocks by the throat, lifting him off the ground. “Your magic doesn’t work on me,” I snarled, exposing my elongated canines as I spoke. “It’s merely an annoyance against my skin. Let’s see if my weapons work on you…” I let my threat trail off, my claws trailing down his chest to separate flesh and bone.
His scream against my sensitive ears made me flinch, but my grip on him didn’t waiver, and neither did my claws as they continued to tear into his chest and abdomen. His movements became weaker until they stopped altogether and his eyes became vacant.
I tossed him to the floor, stepping over his body.
A human shot at me repeatedly, but by the time he had pulled the trigger, I had moved again. I grabbed the weapon, twisting until his wrist broke, and spun the gun toward him and used his own finger to pull the trigger. His eyes widened, registering the close-range gunshot, then his legs wobbled and he collapsed, his hand on his chest.
There were laws against involving humans in the affairs of immortals.
An arm flew in front of me, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. I spun to see Dominic ripping an unfortunate magic user’s limbs off. He used the other arm to beat the man before he pulled his still-beating heart from his chest.
There was no finesse to our bloodlust, both of us allowing the monsters that dwelled inside the immortals loose. I turned to look behind us, finding a scene that deserved to be put into a horror film. It was hard to tell how many we had killed since bodies lay on top of each other, disarticulated limbs sticking out of the piles of flesh at awkward angles.
“It’s been a long time since I lost control,” Dominic said from beside me. “But I hate having magic used against me. At least other species stand a chance against the vampires and lycans, but they don’t even see magic coming. It creeps through the darkness, polluting and destroying.”
I glanced at him from the side of my eye. “You contain magic.”
“I do and it’s a long story that we don’t have time for right now,” he replied. “There are three heartbeats in a room at the back. Everyone else is dead.”
I creaked my neck from side to side, prowling down the corridor, and changing into my human form with every step. The heartbeats in the room sped up at our approach, and I didn’t bother knocking, using my boot to open the door with one kick.
Three warlocks sat in the room, their faces pale as they continued to chant.
“I don’t think that is going to help,” I said, looming over them. “Where is Balor?”
The eyes of one of the men darted to me for a moment before he returned to his task.
“Magic doesn’t work on us,” Dominic said from the doorway. “I would stop trying to repel us and start praying to whatever god you believe in.”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, and Jethro strode in, dangling metal cuffs that Maia had engraved earlier. He dragged one of the warlocks back, grabbing him by the throat when he tried to struggle. Dominic moved forward to help restrain him while Jethro slammed the cuffs into place.
“I recognise you,” I said to the warlock in the corner. “You were there when the war began, standing alongside that megalomaniac who wants to rule the world.”
He stopped chanting and stared at me. “Then you should walk away because we have already won.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “All the dead throughout this complex would disagree,” I replied. “Balor needed all the priestesses, and yet in four hundred years he hasn’t managed it.”
He launched himself toward me, magic flashing from his fingertips. Whatever spell he had been casting bounced off a bubble that appeared in front of me and hit him in the centre of the chest. He blinked, his hand tentatively covering where the spell entered his body.
“What have you done?” he gasped, staggering back two paces.
“Technically, he didn’t do anything,” Dominic pointed out. “You cast a spell that backfired.”
Black blood began to gurgle from the warlock’s mouth, foaming and dripping from his chin. He tried to speak, but no words emerged, the skin sloughing from his face. He clawed at his clothes, exposing his chest, which withered and decomposed as we watched.
“What the actual fuck?” Jethro demanded. “What was he trying to whammy you with?”
“It’s a curse,” Dominic replied. “Magic is like a tree with many branches, each one spreading out to evolve and grow. The roots are based in the fundamental laws, but each branch has its own rules and properties. Most magic users avoid curses since it taints their soul, but some are so dark and twisted they no longer care about the consequences of their actions.”
“It is the living death,” the third warlock said. “The victim can survive years in a decomposing body, experiencing the pain of death continuously without any reprieve as magic repairs the tissue so it can fade again. It was removed from grimoires a long time ago in the hope it would be forgotten.”
“Evil is never forgotten,” I pointed out.
The warlock merely stared at his companion, who was leaking black blood from his mouth and eyes, and held his hands out to Jethro. “I merely do as I’m told to ensure the safety of my family.”
“Balor?” I queried.
“Only a few of his most trusted men know where he is, the rest of us haven’t seen him in decades.” He sat back in his chair to study me. “I remember you. Most of the lycans all blend into one aggressive, hormonal mass, but you were different even back then.”
I turned my back to him to demonstrate my lack of interest in the topic.
“Different how?” Dominic queried, his gaze boring into the warlock, bringing my attention back to him.
“Lycans tend to be ruled by pack instinct, but he queried orders, and never responded to the call of the alpha.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “You managed to remove the spellbinding. Even in that you rebelled against the enchantment placed on you, and that takes a huge amount of physical and mental strength.”
My gaze met Dominic’s for a brief moment. “My wolf will not be enslaved by Balor.”
His laugh sounded bitter. “If he is still alive.”
That was something I hadn’t considered. In my head, he was the epitome of evil, a creature who needed to be killed in at least a dozen different ways to ensure he could never return.
“Interesting,” Dominic said. “It wouldn’t be the first time the leader was gone for years before anyone realised.” He rubbed the bottom of his chin with the tips of his fingers, staring at the warlock as he spoke.
There was a voice in my head that whispered Balor was still out there somewhere. He hadn’t died, because instinct told me I would know if he had. That same instinct had constantly said Luna was alive, but instead I had believed Aisha since she had been connected to her as a priestess and sister. It was time to start listening to my wolf again since our senses had been cleansed to allow us to be ourself again.
I nodded to Jethro, who slammed magic-suppressing cuffs onto the warlock. “I have a family,” the magic user said, not even trying to bargain for his life. “They live among the humans but they know who they are and where to find them.” His gaze met mine and I saw his truth there—he didn’t care about himself, but his family was innocent.
“Give their details to my men,” I replied. “We don’t condone the torture and murder of the innocent.”
He sat back in his chair, sucked in a deep breath, and slowly released it, closing his eyes. I knew that look because I had felt it in my soul myself the moment I finally broke the chains of servitude, and knew I would never have to stand and say nothing while an evil man committed atrocities.
“Get him and his companion out of here,” I instructed, turning my back to them to study the map on the wall.
“What about him?” Jethro indicated the man sitting leaking in the corner.
“Is he saveable?” I asked.
“Not if what I’ve read is true,” Dominic replied. “Those curses were outlawed for a reason.” He wandered across the room and poked the cursed man with the toe of his boot. “I’ve read they can last in this state for years, in a limbo world of agony and distress.”
“Leave him,” I said to Jethro. “He can’t harm us, and it sends a message to whoever finds him.” That message would be accompanied by the scene in the rest of the complex.
I returned to studying the map, something about it made the hairs at the back of my neck rise.
“Problem?” Dominic asked.
I shot him a look out of the corner of my eye. “I’m not sure.”
The vampire appeared beside me. “Talk me through it,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
I sighed, pursing my lips together for a moment. “This is an old map, the land demographics from about a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“So?” Dominic queried.
“So, why have an old map in one of your bases? Why not have a modern one with current borders and land structures?” The map appeared to be accurate, but something about it bugged me since a command base tended to only have the latest and relevant information stored in it.
“Did something happen around that time?” Dominic asked, and I saw his thought pattern, which sparked my own ideas.
Some of my memories were clearer than others, and the ones when I was spellbound were hazy as if I was viewing them through a mist. “I’m not sure,” I replied.
“It was the war with Chile,” Paulo said. “Peru was dragged into it because of the alliance with Bolivia. The map was redrawn because Chile claimed lands in their victory.” He looked like shit, but his wolf genes were healing him rapidly.
I nodded slowly. “The war of the Pacific,” I said, my memories returning. “But why the old map?”
“My guess would be because someone still sees the land borders as they were before the war,” Dominic said. “That the land that now belongs to Chile is still theirs.”
My gaze met Paulo’s. “My memory from that time is hazy,” I muttered, trailing my fingers through my hair.
“I’ve kept a journal for years, and I think we were all spellbound around two hundred years ago at the end of the Spanish occupation,” Paulo replied. “No one knew about my journals, so I was filling them in even when spellbound.”
“Shit,” Dominic said.
“Exactly.” Paulo glanced at him before returning his attention to me. “I recorded everything they had us do in secret without anyone realising, without even me knowing what I was doing. It was a habit from childhood.”
I pursed my lips together for several moments. “What do they say?”
Paulo shook his head. “I haven’t read them all. I checked they were still hidden, and quickly skimmed back to try and work out who had whammied me and when.” He paused. “But there are details of missions I have no memory of.”
“Take this map,” I instructed. “We’ll get Tarrack to have a forensic look at it. Where’s Owen?” I had forgotten about the other vampire.
Dominic’s lips lifted in that creepy grin that made my ass cheeks clamp together. “We arrived here about half an hour before you, and had a little wander about. There was a secret tunnel that led away from the complex. Owen decided to ensure none of the nasty little rodents escaped to warn others.”
A shiver rippled down my spine. I’d had very little experience of vampires over the years, but the past few weeks had shown me that they were killing machines with no mercy. Whoever had fled through the tunnels only found a road to misery and death.