The piece of shit coward isn't getting away. Not that easily. You lunge at him, smashing through the wall of vampires, and lash out with your claws.
Blackwell brings a hand up to defend his face. Your claws rake down his forearm, tearing the fabric of his suit and ripping open the flesh beneath.
You want to press your advantage but then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the glint of silver. You throw yourself to the side... but it's too late. A blade sinks into your side. You scream. It's an acute, icy agony. You feel your flesh blister, buckle, and bubble. The stench of smoke and seared skin fills your nose.
"Gideon Mercer!"
Your pack is with you. They drive the vampires back. A storm of teeth, claws, and rage. Someone grabs your shoulder and drags you away from the battle.
You scream as they pull the blade out of your side.
When your eyes focus you see the Alpha.
"You're really fucking lucky that didn't go in any deeper," he growls. "Be careful."
It's chaos. Tattered pieces of clothing, burnt skin, and faces masked with blood. Addie is helping Elma reset a broken jaw, Terry has a nasty silver burn on his shoulder, and Nikolas...
Nikolas is lying still and silent on the floor.
"Nik? Nik!"
You stare, numb, as Grace rushes to Nikolas' side, pulls him up into a sitting position, and shakes him gently, then rougher when he doesn't respond. "Honey. Wake up. Wake up."
The Alpha is standing back, face white. "Uncle Nik?"
Nikolas' chest is a bloody mess. But that's not the wound that catches your attention. There is a small cut on his cheek. Tiny. The kind of cut that would disappear within a minute on a living werewolf.
On a living werewolf.
You're shaking. You're angry. You feel like you're about to throw up.
Grace screams a raw, ugly, agonised sound.
"Ed!" Vicky shouts. She's looking around, hair flying and chest heaving. "Where's Ed?! Ed! Where—?"
She sees him the same time you do.
Next
He's behind the regrouping vampire army, only a few feet away from the vampire holding the grenades.
Holy fucking shit.
You watch, heart in your mouth, as Ed takes a deep breath, lets out his claws, and—
"Behind you!" Blackwell yells.
The vampire spins around. Your stomach drops as she raises her gun and points it squarely at Ed.
Ed attacks. The gun lets out a deceptively soft pop, Vicky screams... and Ed kills the vampire. You watch in awe as he hacks her head off, grabs the gun, and stands... all while the red spot on his shirt grows bigger, and bigger.
He looks down at his torso. "Ow."
"Kill him," Blackwell snarls.
Ed grabs the belt of grenades and holds it up. "Hey! You really want to do that?!"
"Stop!" Blackwell yells.
The vampires freeze.
"Didn't think so," Ed says slowly. "Now, let's take a deep breath and talk terms and conditions here."
"Terms and conditions?" Blackwell snarls.
"Yeah... because, the way I see it, you being a scared little bitch hiding behind all your minions, makes you a real easy target. But, I don't actually want to blow myself up. And, I figure you don't want to be blown up either. So, you're going to let me go back to my pack, real slow and easy."
"And then what? What do I get out of these 'terms and conditions'?" Blackwell snarls.
Ed grins, his face sweaty and painfully human. "That's the best bit. You get jack fucking shit, because I'm betting you can't think of an alternative before I walk across this room, can you?"
Blackwell's eyes are black with anger... but he doesn't say anything as Ed steps away from the vampires and scurries across to join the pack.
Next
Vicky grabs him the second he's close enough. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine," he says, voice carrying in the massive room. You can tell it's a lie, but he's still standing, and the bleeding is slowing, which means his hyper healing is kicking in. Still, he's injured... and not just a little bit.
He's also now the single most impressively armed werewolf you've ever seen. A belt of grenades slung over his shoulder, and a bulky black gun held loosely in his right hand.
Grace is still holding Nikolas, cradling him and weeping. The Alpha is frozen, staring down at the body like he can't quite understand what he's seeing.
"Alpha," you hiss.
He doesn't move.
"Sergi."
He looks up.
"You need to lead."
He stares at you. "Lead?"
"You're our Alpha. We need you."
"Gideon Mercer... I... I'm so sorry. I should never have—"
"You're our Alpha! We need you! That bastard did this! Let's get him, end this."
He doesn't respond.
You look over at Blackwell.
He's watching you from within the clump of vampires, waiting for your pack to make the next move. His clothes aren't the only thing torn. You see several deep gashes oozing blood. He's injured... but still a long way from dead. Despite the mess of corpses on the floor, his vampire army barely seems to have shrunk. They're wearing a wild assortment of clothes, from pyjamas, to suits, hi vis jackets, and even a couple of police officers... all grinning the same ugly, senseless grin. You get a sickening feeling that these vampires were human not too long ago.
"What now?" Ed whispers.
There is only one way this ends.
You howl.
hunthunthunthunthunthunt
The pack responds.
ripripripripripripripRIPRIPRIP
The moon joins you in savage harmony.
KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL
The pack surge forward.
Next
In movies, when two opposing forces meet, it's in an open field. A square jawed protagonist will say a witty catch phrase, the love interests will look at each other one last time, and then the good guys will run at the bad guys. Cue heroic music. Drums, trumpets, maybe even some bagpipes.
This isn't that.
A vampire in a flowery pink dress slips over in a puddle of blood. Another swings at you with their machete, misses, and chops deep into a different vampire's torso. A third is missing both arms and still staggering forward, fangs on full display. But it's not their skill that makes them dangerous. It's their single minded determination.
Blackwell told them to kill... and so that's what they're doing.
Swinging silver. Snapping fangs. Cold clawing hands.
The wolves are better fighters, but they're also angry. Nikolas is dead, others are hurt, and the moon is so fucking close. They're not playing fair, or nice, or safe.
Howls of war and revenge sing in your veins. Bellows of triumph blur with yelps of pain. You don't have time to try and make sense of it all. You just fight.
"Gideon Mercer!"
A vampire emerges from battle and bounds towards you. You throw yourself to the side but it's already too late. She hits you. The next thing you know, you're on the ground, trapped beneath cold, clawing limbs and glittering, red fangs.
You try to push her off. You can't. She's stronger than her thin, wiry frame would suggest. Stronger than the other vampires. Stronger than you.
Her eyes are narrow, angry slits. Her smile wider, and hungrier than the other vampires.
"I'm sorry," she says, her voice light and disturbingly chipper. "Opening hours are from seven thirty AM until nine PM. Please come back during—"
A clawed hand wraps around the vampire's throat and hauls her gracelessly back.
You blink up and see... "Alpha?"
He's covered in thick black fur, his mouth riddled with pointed teeth, and eye glows a bright angry yellow. His scar slices through his fur, a vicious, angry red.
The vampire's hands latch onto the Alpha's wrist.
You hear the snap of bone.
He snarls and slams her into the ground. You take the opportunity to attack. Working in tandem the two of you pin her down and hack off her head. She hisses and writhes for a disturbingly long time before her body goes still and starts to rapidly rot away. In seconds, she's nothing but ash and bone.
It makes you realise how few of the other vampires are decomposing.
Too new. Too fresh.
"Are you okay?" Sergi asks, his voice tight.