Chapter 27
We moved through the forest with inhuman speed, following the sounds of battle that echoed from the direction of the ammunition depot.
Gunfire stuttered in irregular bursts, punctuated by screams that carried clearly to vampire hearing.
Catherine still trembled beside me, the bloodshed we’d witnessed in the clearing having awakened hungers she struggled to control.
Desiderius ran slightly ahead with a discipline that younger vampires could only aspire to.
I caught the sharp tang of explosives on the night air, followed by a deeper, more ominous scent—the distinctive odor of artillery shells cooking off in their casings.
Whatever was happening at the depot, it was rapidly spiraling beyond anyone’s control.
“Something’s wrong,” I called to Desiderius. “The assault pattern is chaotic. There’s no coordination.”
He slowed his pace marginally, allowing me to draw alongside him. “Mercer’s team should have secured the outer perimeter by now. This sounds like...”
“A trap,” I finished for him. “Just like the one set for us.”
We crested a small rise in the terrain that provided our first clear view of the depot—and what we saw stripped away any remaining hope that this night would end without catastrophe.
The outer buildings had been reduced to skeletal frames, flames licking hungrily at their exposed supports.
German soldiers ran in frantic patterns, some firing wildly into the darkness, others attempting to contain fires that threatened the major storage facilities.
And moving among them with supernatural speed were the dark shapes of my flock—Ruth and Rebecca foremost among them, tearing through human defenses with a fury that matched that I’d seen exhibited by the werewolf just minutes before.
But there was something chaotic in their attack, as if Mercer had lost control.
A desperate quality, as though they operated without the tactical direction they had been conditioned to follow.
They were killing, yes, but without restraint, without purpose beyond bloodshed.
And the Germans, despite their panic, were managing to funnel them toward the central compound.
“It’s a trap,” Desiderius observed, his voice tight with dawning comprehension. “The Germans must know more about what we are than even we realized. They’re being herded into a killing field.”
I clenched my fists. “Mercer sent them to die.”
I started forward, but Desiderius caught my arm with unexpected strength. “Too late,” he warned. “Look.”
On the western edge of the compound, German soldiers were hastily withdrawing, abandoning defensive positions as they retreated from the central storage buildings.
Even at this distance, my vampire sight detected the telltale wires strung between structures—detonation lines, hastily laid but effective.
The entire depot had been rigged to explode, with my flock inside.
“No!” I tore free of Desiderius’s grip and ran toward the compound, knowing even as I did I could not possibly reach them in time. “Ruth! Rebecca! Get out! It’s a trap!”
My voice was lost in the cacophony of battle.
Through the gaps in the flames and smoke, I caught glimpses of my flock, still pursuing Germans who fled with theatrical terror, drawing them deeper into the labyrinth of storage buildings.
The Germans weren’t fighting to win; they were sacrificing themselves to ensure our destruction.
Then, through a momentary parting of smoke and flame, I saw Ruth. She stood at the entrance to the main storage facility, blood streaking her uniform, her expression still blank with the emptiness Gallow’s serum had induced. Rebecca appeared beside her, equally blood-soaked, equally hollow.
They had been my first success stories—souls I had guided from predatory emptiness toward the possibility of redemption. Seeing them reduced to weapons, to disposable assets, tore at something deep within me.
For a second, our eyes met across the inferno.
Recognition flickered in Ruth’s gaze—a moment of clarity breaking through the chemical fog that had enslaved her.
Her lips parted as if to speak. Rebecca turned toward her, confusion replacing her vacant expression for the first time since Gallow’s treatments had begun.
The joined hands and fell to their knees, making the sign of the cross.
In that fragile moment of reclaimed humanity, the world erupted.
The explosion began at the center of the depot, a blinding flash. The shockwave rippled outward, igniting secondary explosions as it encountered stored munitions. Artillery shells, grenades, and crates of ammunition added to the apocalyptic chorus, turning night to unnatural day.
I watched in helpless horror as Ruth and Rebecca were literally torn apart before my eyes, even as they kneeled in prayer.
The explosion shredded their immortal bodies with such violence that reconstruction would be impossible.
Through the flames, I glimpsed Thomas, his youthful face contorted in a silent scream as fire consumed him.
James and Michael, caught in the blast’s epicenter, simply ceased to exist—their forms reduced to ash and scattered bone.
I couldn’t find Maria, but if she was in there, her chances of making it were slim.
The force of the explosion threw me backward, the heat searing my face even at this distance.
I crashed into Desiderius and Catherine, the three of us tumbling down the slope we had just ascended.
My ears rang with the concussive aftermath, the world temporarily reduced to silent chaos illuminated by hellish light.
When my senses returned, I stared up at a sky turned orange with reflected fire. Catherine lay nearby, her body curled into a protective ball, her hands covering her ears. Desiderius had already regained his feet, his ancient eyes fixed on the destruction before us.
“They’re gone,” he said simply, the words carrying more weight than elaborate expressions of grief could have managed.
I pushed myself upright, my body responding with the numb automation of shock. Through the flames, I could see no survivors among my flock. No movement. No familiar silhouettes navigating the inferno. Only destruction stretched before us, complete and merciless.
“Mercer,” I whispered, the name burning my tongue like acid. “I didn’t see him in there before it—“
Desiderius clenched his fists. “He’s still out here somewhere.”
The words had barely left my lips when a shadow detached itself from the darkness behind us. Before we could react, a wooden bolt flew through the air and struck Desiderius in the heart. He collapsed at my feet.
I didn’t have a chance to remove the bolt from his chest before Mercy charged after me. “You!” he snarled. “You exposed us to the Germans! They knew we were coming!”
Before I could respond, he lunged forward, his hands outstretched for my throat.
I sidestepped his initial attack, the training I’d received ironically enough from the Order allowing me to anticipate his movement. “You set us up,” I countered. “You led them into that depot knowing what waited inside. You sacrificed them all.”
“This was your fault!” he spat, circling me, keeping an eye on Catherine, who was a trembling mess in the brush. She didn’t post much of a threat to Mercer, she was too young, too new. Too compromised by the smell of blood. It took all her focus to maintain even a modicum of control.
“You sent the Order to eliminate us!” I screamed back.
He smirked. “Gantry promised me amnesty for delivering you—the one vampire the Order has never been able to command.”
“So you threw away Ruth, Rebecca, Thomas—all of them—to save yourself?” My voice cracked with grief and rage. “They trusted you!”
“They were weapons,” Mercer replied coldly. “Created to serve, then discarded when their usefulness ended. As all of us are, in the end.”
I clenched my fists. “This was never about using us in a war! This was about luring us into the heart of it, setting us up for elimination.”
He attacked again, his movements a blur of supernatural speed. This time his hand caught my shoulder, claws tearing through fabric to the flesh beneath. Pain lanced through me, but I twisted away before his grip could tighten.
“I should have eliminated you when you first refused the treatments,” he hissed. “Should have recognized the threat you posed with your persistent humanity, your stubborn faith.”
He lunged for me again, but this time the attack never landed.
A massive shape intercepted him mid-leap, slamming into his body with such force that both figures tumbled across the scorched earth. The silver wolf from the clearing had returned, its enormous form now fully revealed in the light of the burning depot.
Mercer recovered quickly, spinning to face this new threat with a snarl that matched the wolf’s in primal fury. “Lycanthrope,” he spat, the word twisted with ancient hatred.
The two supernatural creatures circled each other with cautious respect, centuries of enmity evident in their postures.
When they clashed, the speed defied even vampire sight to fully track—a blur of fur and fangs, of claws and impossible strength.
They tumbled across the ground, each seeking the advantage that would end their opponent.
I took the opportunity to remove the wooden bolt from Desiderius’s chest. His eyes shot open in a mix of horror and urgency. He gripped my arm.. “We must go,” he urged. “Now.”
“But—“
“Werewolves are not our allies,” he insisted. “They are ancient enemies of our kind. Whatever reason it had for saving us before, it will turn on us once it finishes with Mercer.”