hurled it, and it shot through the air like a missile, lodging in the center wolf's eye. The wolf crumpled to the ground and shifted back into human form.
The wolf to his left let out a howl, and the wolf on his right came at him, snarling. The beast jumped, attacking with a frothing mouth, but Michael caught it by the throat and squeezed, snapping it's neck. The wolf began to shift in his grip, and Michael dropped the corpse on the floor.
The last wolf ran at Michael full bore. Michael ran, too, and kicked his rapier in mid-stride, sending it into the air in front of him. He caught it, whirled, and cut the wolf down.
A pair of arrows smacked into the ground near his feet. Michael looked up to see another pair of human-forms running into the room, dropping spent crossbows and pulling knives. Michael hurled his dagger again, and one of the guards fell to the ground. The second reached down and took his partner's knife, and came at Michael with both blades flashing through the air around him.
The guard knew what he was doing with a knnife; Michael thought that his form looked like some kind of Filipino martial art. But a pair of knives is no match for the reach of a long sword, and Michael held him at bay, the shining blade flicking through the air like lightning, drawing fresh blood every time the guard got too close.
Frustrated, the guard threw caution to the wind and lunged at Michael, both knives high in the air, ready to smash them down into Michael's body. But Michael umped into the air, sailed over the guard's head, and landed neatly behind him. The guard looked left and right, confused. Michael slid up to him, grabbed his hair, pulled his head back, and held the blade to his throat. "Where is the girl?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Screw you."
Michael traced the blade along his skin, drawing blood and smoke. "All right, all right!" the guard said. "She's upstairs, big room at the end of the hall!"
"Thank you," Michael said, and slit his throat.
Three more guards, all in human form, were waiting at the top of the stairs. Michael dodged more arrows and threw both of his blades at them. The guards dove aside, untouched by the blades, and came back to their feet. The blades buried themselves into the wall.
Michael was gone.
"What the hell?" The first guard asked.
"God damn vampires," the second said.
"Why the hell are the lights off?" The third asked. "That doesn't even make any sense. How is that supposed to help us?"
"We can see in the dark?"
"Not like they can. Jesus. I'm done with this. After we kill this idiot, I'm turning—"
Michael dropped from the ceiling, landing in the midst of the three werewolves. He snapped the speaker's neck and let him fall to the ground.
The other two started to yell. One grabbed for Michael, but Michael raked his talons over the offending arm, shredding flesh and drawing a scream. The other werewolf slashed with a dagger, but Michael blocked it and slashed across his midsection, ripping him open. Then Michael turned and dispatched the other guard with a flash of his talons.
There were five more guards, in wolf form, between Michael and the door. He grabbed his blades and yanked them from the wall, then started forward, as grim as death. The wolves snarled and snapped. Michael moved down the hallway inexorably, severing limbs and slitting throats. Blood and screams filled the air.
Michael stood before the door, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, and shook the blood from his blades. He braced himself and kicked, reducing the door to splinters with a thundering crash, and stormed into the room.
The empty room.
Michael looked around. "Seriously? You've got to be kidding." He turned and walked back out, and crossed to the other room at the end of the hall. He kicked a severed arm out of the way, and smashed his way into the room.
There, curled into a ball and clutching her leg, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, was Caitlin.
Chapter Four
The screaming
The wolf to his left let out a howl, and the wolf on his right came at him, snarling. The beast jumped, attacking with a frothing mouth, but Michael caught it by the throat and squeezed, snapping it's neck. The wolf began to shift in his grip, and Michael dropped the corpse on the floor.
The last wolf ran at Michael full bore. Michael ran, too, and kicked his rapier in mid-stride, sending it into the air in front of him. He caught it, whirled, and cut the wolf down.
A pair of arrows smacked into the ground near his feet. Michael looked up to see another pair of human-forms running into the room, dropping spent crossbows and pulling knives. Michael hurled his dagger again, and one of the guards fell to the ground. The second reached down and took his partner's knife, and came at Michael with both blades flashing through the air around him.
The guard knew what he was doing with a knnife; Michael thought that his form looked like some kind of Filipino martial art. But a pair of knives is no match for the reach of a long sword, and Michael held him at bay, the shining blade flicking through the air like lightning, drawing fresh blood every time the guard got too close.
Frustrated, the guard threw caution to the wind and lunged at Michael, both knives high in the air, ready to smash them down into Michael's body. But Michael umped into the air, sailed over the guard's head, and landed neatly behind him. The guard looked left and right, confused. Michael slid up to him, grabbed his hair, pulled his head back, and held the blade to his throat. "Where is the girl?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Screw you."
Michael traced the blade along his skin, drawing blood and smoke. "All right, all right!" the guard said. "She's upstairs, big room at the end of the hall!"
"Thank you," Michael said, and slit his throat.
Three more guards, all in human form, were waiting at the top of the stairs. Michael dodged more arrows and threw both of his blades at them. The guards dove aside, untouched by the blades, and came back to their feet. The blades buried themselves into the wall.
Michael was gone.
"What the hell?" The first guard asked.
"God damn vampires," the second said.
"Why the hell are the lights off?" The third asked. "That doesn't even make any sense. How is that supposed to help us?"
"We can see in the dark?"
"Not like they can. Jesus. I'm done with this. After we kill this idiot, I'm turning—"
Michael dropped from the ceiling, landing in the midst of the three werewolves. He snapped the speaker's neck and let him fall to the ground.
The other two started to yell. One grabbed for Michael, but Michael raked his talons over the offending arm, shredding flesh and drawing a scream. The other werewolf slashed with a dagger, but Michael blocked it and slashed across his midsection, ripping him open. Then Michael turned and dispatched the other guard with a flash of his talons.
There were five more guards, in wolf form, between Michael and the door. He grabbed his blades and yanked them from the wall, then started forward, as grim as death. The wolves snarled and snapped. Michael moved down the hallway inexorably, severing limbs and slitting throats. Blood and screams filled the air.
Michael stood before the door, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, and shook the blood from his blades. He braced himself and kicked, reducing the door to splinters with a thundering crash, and stormed into the room.
The empty room.
Michael looked around. "Seriously? You've got to be kidding." He turned and walked back out, and crossed to the other room at the end of the hall. He kicked a severed arm out of the way, and smashed his way into the room.
There, curled into a ball and clutching her leg, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, was Caitlin.
Chapter Four
The screaming
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