The gunshots came in a steady, heavy rhythm from the rooftop. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Each bullet found its mark. Werewolves trying to flee in different directions dropped one by one, their bodies spasming as the silver nitrate rounds exploded inside them.
Raze stood frozen, his wolf form trembling as he watched his pack die around him. His eyes were locked on the massive, corroded exit wounds in their chests. "Silver bullets," he breathed, the words a disbelieving growl. "Designed specifically for werewolves."
Alexei didn't give him time to process. He stepped forward and drove a powerful kick into Raze's chest.
The impact was brutal, a sickening, wet thud that launched Raze backward. He slammed into a thick stone support column with bone-crushing force. The sound of the impact echoed through the station. Cracks spiderwebbed across the entire pillar from the force.
Raze slid down the stone slowly, his werewolf form flickering and failing. That single kick had ruptured something deep inside. He shifted back to his human form, gasping, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Stop! We surrender!"
Faced with a Judge of the Fraternity and unseen snipers hidden in the darkness, Raze knew resistance was suicide.
The few surviving werewolves, seeing their alpha beaten so easily, lowered their weapons and raised their hands.
Alexei twirled his silver sword in a small, disappointed flourish, the metal singing in the quiet. He sheathed it with a clean snick. "You went down before I even got warmed up."
At the Ziodex Industries facility, the fight was a chaotic mess of close-quarters gunfire. Selene and Soren fought desperately against overwhelming numbers. They moved in practiced, lethal tandem, both pistols in each of their hands firing almost continuously.
Some werewolves stayed in human form, using submachine guns loaded with ultraviolet ammunition designed specifically to kill vampires. The two sides traded fire, diving behind overturned furniture and concrete pillars. Death came from every angle.
The specialized weapons were devastatingly effective. Both species' legendary healing meant nothing against rounds engineered specifically to counter it. Wounds didn't close. Injuries that should have been trivial proved fatal.
Vampires and werewolves died screaming, their bodies refusing to regenerate.
Other werewolves had transformed, their massive lupine forms ignoring the firefight. They were scaling the building's exterior walls, claws sinking into the concrete. Their objective was clear. Take Michael alive.
Selene caught the movement in her peripheral vision. She spun, leveling her pistol, and fired three times through the window.
Glass exploded outward into the night air. A werewolf that had been about to leap inside grunted as the bullets hit, its claws scraping uselessly. It dropped like a stone to the pavement twenty meters below.
Selene ducked as a spray of UV rounds stitched the wall where she'd been standing. She assessed the tactical situation in a fraction of a second. Surrounded. Outnumbered. No reinforcements coming.
"We can't hold this position. Move!"
She leaned out from cover and emptied both magazines in a controlled, rapid burst, dropping three more werewolves in the corridor instantly.
As she reloaded, snatching fresh magazines from her belt, she grabbed Michael by his collar. "Go! Out the window!"
Michael scrambled onto the windowsill as instructed, his hands shaking. Then he looked down. It was twenty meters straight down to the dark, wet concrete. His legs went weak. His vision swam.
"Are you insane?" he yelled over the gunfire.
The ceiling above them buckled with a groan of tortured metal and plaster. Werewolves were breaking through.
Selene didn't have time to argue. She kicked Michael square in the back.
He fell, a raw scream tearing from his throat, spinning end over end through the rainy air. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from him, but rolled instinctively, absorbing the momentum as he'd been taught. When he stumbled to his feet, gasping, nothing was broken. He wasn't even bruised.
He stared at his hands in disbelief, then at his legs. That fall should have killed him.
Selene slammed her fresh magazines home. "This position's compromised. Everyone out!"
She fired several shots into the suspicious, sagging bulges in the ceiling. Bullets punched through the plasterboard. Two werewolves dropped from above, already dead. Soren's team put finishing rounds into each one to be sure.
Then they moved to the windows.
In the brief seconds it took Michael to land and recover his wits, an armored black van screeched to a halt beside him. The side door slid open. Several massive figures piled out. They grabbed Michael before he could even react, threw him into the back of the van, and the door slammed shut. The tires smoked as the van peeled out.
The entire kidnapping took less than five seconds.
Selene reached the window just in time to see the van's taillights disappearing around a corner. She fired after them uselessly. The bullets sparked brightly off the armor plating and ricocheted into the night.
She cursed and jumped from the window, landing in a perfect three-point crouch. By the time she stood, the van was gone.
The remaining Death Dealers evacuated behind her, landing silently on the pavement. Within seconds, only vampires remained at the facility.
The werewolves, having secured their target, grabbed their dead and vanished into the night.
Soren surveyed the survivors. They'd lost half their squad. His expression was grim. "What now? Do we go after him?"
Selene shook her head, reloading her pistols. "Dragon Ball first. Michael won't keep the location secret for long under interrogation. We need to get there before the werewolves do."
Soren nodded, his mind already shifting. No one else spoke up for Michael. Without the shared trauma of fighting together and surviving impossible odds, Selene felt no particular attachment to him. Her focus was the Dragon Ball. Soren was already planning their response to the werewolf offensive.
In the vampire castle, Victor had completed his recovery. Fresh blood, drawn from the coven's stores, had restored his strength and returned him to his prime appearance. He looked like a man in his late forties, regal and powerful. Power radiated from him as he dressed in dark, modern clothes befitting his station.
The heavy wooden door opened. Kraven entered, saw Victor fastening the collar of his shirt, and immediately dropped to one knee.
Victor had absorbed all the information Selene had transmitted through her blood offering. He knew about the Dragon Ball, the werewolves, and the current, fragile state of their operations. He looked at the man kneeling before him with cold calculation.
"It's Selene I need to see right now, not you."
Kraven rose slowly, taking two hesitant steps forward. "She hasn't returned since leaving with the Death Dealers, Master."
Victor's gaze could have cut glass. "Contact her. Now. By phone."
A century ago when he'd entered his long sleep, telephones had been a new, clumsy invention. From Selene's memories, he now understood mobile phones perfectly. The vampires' unique ability to share complex memories and knowledge through blood ensured the elders never woke disoriented, lost in a changed world.
Kraven spread his hands helplessly. "I've tried, Master. Selene, Soren, none of them answer."
He'd been calling repeatedly during their firefight. None of them had exactly been in a position to check their phones.
Victor's voice dropped to something low and dangerous. "Then keep calling until someone picks up."
Kraven nodded quickly and retreated from the room.
Selene, Soren, and the surviving Death Dealers descended into the sewers at the location Michael had specified. The heavy, circular manhole cover scraped loudly as they pried it up. The stench of raw sewage and heavy rainwater runoff washed over them.
A waterproof box hung suspended from a chain above the dark, flowing water below, exactly where Michael said it would be.
Selene retrieved it and popped the seals. Inside, nestled in protective foam, was an orange sphere with five red stars.
She smiled. A small, cold, satisfied smile. Finally.
Her phone rang, the digital sound echoing strangely in the concrete tunnel. She pocketed the Dragon Ball, pulled out her phone, and saw Kraven's name on the screen.
She answered.
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