Taming the Darkness: Love & Monsters, Book 2 (14 page)

The major had to yell the question twice into his com to get an answer. “East,” he said.

“East,” Victor repeated. Alston pointed, but he could feel it, the direction the sun came from each morning, the deepest part of night now. He threw his chest and shoulder armor down next to his gun. “Come on,” he told Claire, and ran.

“Do you think the fence will hold them?” Claire asked, panting as she tried to keep up with him.

Victor kept slowing down to strip off clothes. Shirt gone, awkward hop to get shoes off. “Not for long.” Pants—extra annoying. He used his claws to rip them apart and kicked off each leg. A door blocked their way. Through the reinforced glass on either side, he saw several soldiers. He skidded to a stop and tried the door. Locked. He pounded on it. “Open up, gotta get through.”

Claire caught up with him. “Not helping.” She pressed the intercom next to the door. “Let us through. It’s Monroe and Scarlotti. We have to get outside.”

The guard that opened the door looked wary, especially when he got a look at totally naked Victor. “I know,” Claire said with a sigh. “Just let us through. We have to hurry.” She pushed her way past him and Victor followed. Six other guards stood staring at them. “Move!”

“What the fuck,” one of them muttered, but they all shuffled aside.

Claire started running again. At the end of this hall was another door and from the barred windows on each side he knew it was the door out. Also, more guards. Victor loped past Claire and started shifting. The familiar muffled pain flooded through him as he tried to change everything at once. Legs and arms and claws and jaws and shoulders. Almost too many things to think of at once. Ten soldiers guarded the door. They turned and four of them lifted their guns.

“Oh shit,” Claire said. “It’s Monroe! He’s on our side, don’t shoot,” she screamed. One of them lowered his gun, the other three looked like they had no intention of letting him through.

“Open the fucking door and
let me through
,” Victor roared as he lowered his arms to run on all fours. Patterson and the other alts were out there, just a fence and some flimsy defenses between them and the city. One of the guards unlocked the door and one of the gun-pointing ones yelled for her to stop.

“Stop right there or we’ll shoot,” one of the three ordered.

He ignored him and kept coming, so they fired. He dodged gracefully to the side to avoid their bullets. He couldn’t dodge them all, especially as he got closer. How many bullets could he take without it killing him? And how much damage was he willing to take before he had to face the alts outside?

Claire screamed his name.
Claire
. He skidded to a stop and put his hands up. “Don’t shoot.” He might be able to dodge some of their bullets and even take some without serious damage, but Claire couldn’t. She was right behind him, right in the line of fire. Unfortunately, stopping didn’t stop them from shooting. A bullet sank into his right arm and there was a white-hot flare of pain. Everyone started shouting.

“Kill him!”

“Don’t shoot him!”

“Stop!”

Other things were lost in the noise of the alarm and the sound of gunfire. Then a voice rose above them. “Cease fire. That’s an order.” The other guards wrestled the weapons away from the shooters. There was more shouting while his wound throbbed in time to the whooping alarm.

“Shit, are you okay?” Claire ran up to him, hovering her hands over his arm, afraid to touch him.

“I’ll live.” He flexed his fingers, sending bolts of pain through his arm. It would fade. For now he had to do his best to ignore it.

Claire turned, bringing up her gun. “I’m gonna fucking
kill
you.” She stalked toward the guards.

“Let it go,” he heard himself say. How surreal, trying to calm Claire down. He curled his wounded arm against his chest and went after her on three legs. Limbs, whatever.

“They fucking
shot
you.” The three shooters were being restrained by the others.

“Other things to worry about now.”

She gave him a fierce look, not directed at him but at anyone who would dare hurt him.
I protect my mate and my mate protects me.
A flicker of desire went through him. “Fighting first.”

She clenched her jaw and nodded. “Open the fucking door.”

This time no one stopped them.

Floodlights made the perimeter almost as bright as day, and he wished they’d turn them—and the fucking alarm—off. A second later, he got his wish. The lights, the alarm, everything went off, and they were plunged into darkness. Victor’s eyes quickly adjusted, but he stayed where he was because he knew Claire couldn’t see. Light came from the rest of the city, but it wasn’t enough for the humans to see by. He scanned the area, looking for a generator. “If the power’s out, the fence is out.”

The gunshots and shouting continued. Near them, someone screamed. Half the lights came back on and he blinked as his eyes adjusted.

“Must be a backup generator,” Claire said.

“Enough juice for the fence?” he asked. A figure streaked across the grounds and jumped halfway up the fence. Since it kept climbing, there was his answer. Victor ran after it, still on three limbs. He caught the creature’s scent and a growl rumbled in his chest. Patterson. He was almost to the top when Victor launched himself at the fence. He grabbed with both his hands and yelped as pain shot up his wounded arm. Still, he held on and forced himself to climb.

Patterson looked down at him and snarled, his mouth stretched inhumanly wide and lined with sharp teeth. Victor caught up to him, his wound screaming for him to stop. He lunged and grabbed Patterson, using all his strength to pull him off the fence. Victor twisted in midair like a cat, putting Patterson on the bottom. They hit the ground and he screamed as his right arm came down on Patterson. The other alt let out a gasp as the air was knocked out of him.

They recovered at almost the same time, Patterson throwing him off as Victor shifted to make an attack. Victor landed on his feet and Patterson whirled to face him. Gunfire chattered around them and Claire screamed at the soldiers to stop. Patterson slashed at him with wicked claws. He dodged and moved inside Patterson’s reach, grabbing his arm.

Then they were on the ground, wrestling for position. Patterson snapped at him with those wicked teeth and Victor stretched his jaw into a muzzle, snapping back with sharp teeth of his own. They got a few nips on each other, the scent of fresh blood driving their frenzy. They broke away, both gaining their feet. Circling, growling at each other, looking for a weakness.

Victor tried out a new idea, growing sharp spines along his back like a hellhound. “You could’ve left on patrol. No guns, no sirens, no walls.”

“Wanted out, wanted to kill.” Patterson’s voice sounded strange coming out of that mouth. “Don’t you feel it? The need.” His eyes half-closed and a little tremor went through him.

“Need to kill nasties,” Victor agreed. And alts. The satisfaction of the last few kills still sang in him.

“Not nasties. Humans. Kill them. Kill them all.” Patterson rushed him and Victor turned to block with his shoulder. Patterson’s sharp teeth cut into him, but he brought his head around and nearly got his jaws around the alt’s neck. At the last instant, Patterson moved and Victor bit down on his shoulder instead. Both of them bit down harder, Victor too stubborn to let go despite the burning pain. Patterson broke away first, taking a small chunk of Victor with him. The pain flared through him and he lost his grip.

He stumbled away to give himself some distance while he tried to shake the injury off. It hurt, it hurt like
hell
, but he didn’t feel pain the same way he used to. It was more distant since he’d been altered, and he assumed this was how nasties experienced pain. That was why they kept coming no matter how much damage was done to them.

Patterson very deliberately swallowed the stringy piece of flesh he’d torn from Victor. It didn’t disgust Victor, it pissed him off.

Patterson took a few slow steps back, and for a moment his eyes got brighter. “We don’t have to fight. We could go and kill everything. We’re the same.”

“Not the same,” Victor growled. Patterson had let the creature take over and he was no better than a nasty. Victor still had enough control to hold back the worst of his instincts. Whatever else he was, he was still part human thanks to Claire.

On all fours, Victor charged. At the last second, he turned aside, jaws open wide and ripped into Patterson’s side. Patterson turned and howled, lashing out. Victor danced away, but claws sliced into his leg and he stumbled. With a quick roll, he avoided Patterson’s next attack as several areas of his body now competed for most painful. He was healing, but not fast enough.

They fought for several minutes, a flurry of teeth and claws. Victor had a dozen new wounds and he’d gotten Patterson just as good. Then Patterson got lucky as Victor took a misstep and almost fell. Patterson darted in, slamming his shoulder against him before he could regain his balance. Victor went down and Patterson was on him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as the alt’s claws sank into his side. He yowled as the claws caught against his ribs, and Patterson pulled, flipping Victor onto his back.

Victor brought his free hand up, waiting a critical half second to see if he should use it to protect his throat or to try and attack Patterson. Patterson’s head came up.
Going for the neck then.
He got a good view of Patterson’s teeth in that too-wide mouth, sharp as a shark’s teeth and dripping with Victor’s blood. Then Patterson jittered, and the look in his eyes went from triumph to surprise and pain. Patterson yanked his claws out of Victor and rolled away.

Bullets, yes. Someone had shot him. It took Victor a few seconds to clear his head and get onto all fours. The first thing he saw was Claire with her gun up. The second was Patterson heading straight for her. “Claire!” His body screamed a protest as he forced it to run, all the wounds in his body rising to a chorus. It didn’t matter how hurt he was.

She set her jaw and fired at the charging alt. Bullets ripped into Patterson, and one of them was a clean head shot. Patterson kept coming. He got within a few feet of Claire before Victor collided with him. Impact…falling…the even harder impact of the ground. He heard snapping and felt a white-hot flare of pain. At least one bone broken. His left arm or a rib, he couldn’t tell because they both hurt so much. The momentum carried them into a roll and Patterson’s heavy body went over him, bringing another flare of pain.

The roll ended with Victor on top, but he couldn’t immediately take advantage of his position. Pain blurred his vision, and all he could do was lean over his enemy and try to breathe. When it eased a little, he saw Patterson was in worse shape. The gunshot to his head was just above his right eye, and although it hadn’t stopped his charge, it had done serious damage. In a few more minutes that and his other injuries might kill Patterson, but Victor wanted to be sure. He opened his jaws wide and went for Patterson’s throat.

There was still some fight in the former soldier. Patterson brought both his hands up and shoved against Victor’s chest. He made rough, low noises that might have been words. There was a whistle in his breathing that said punctured lung. A tiny flicker of sympathy went through Victor before the monster side of him demanded he finish it. Patterson tried, but he just didn’t have any strength left. His arms buckled and Victor’s jaws closed around his neck. A hot jet of blood filled Victor’s mouth, and he clamped down tighter until things snapped under his teeth. He jerked back, taking half of Patterson’s throat with him.

He stumbled off the body, his arms and legs wobbly. Rib broken, definitely, because his left arm worked. Claire stepped up next to him and put three bullets into Patterson’s head. “Just to be sure,” she said. Then she turned and her face filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

He tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. “Hell, no.”

A little wrinkle formed between her brows. “You know what I mean.”

He shifted his jaw back to human. “Not gonna die.” He licked blood from his lips.

“Good, ’cause I could never find another partner to live up to you.” The corner of her mouth turned up.

He wanted to kiss her but didn’t dare, not when he was covered in blood from alts and nasties. The main lights came back on, flooding the yard. A group of four soldiers hurried toward them.

“How many are left?” He was exhausted and in no shape to fight, but he had to know.

“None,” she said. “They killed another one down in the second basement, one more on the main floor. The other two were killed out here, plus Patterson. That’s all of them.”

He sagged and let out a little sigh. “It’s over, then.”

One of the soldiers heading for them broke away and jogged double time until he reached Claire. They started talking, but Victor didn’t hear the words. He sat back on his haunches and wondered if he could curl up and sleep for a while, just until it stopped hurting so much. No, it was too exposed out here. He needed a den. He took a slow step toward the lab. He didn’t know if he’d be able to find a room with a bed in there that wasn’t torn to pieces, but he had to try. “Gonna go inside,” he muttered. With slow steps, he went past Patterson’s body.

“Victor!”

He whipped his head around, pain screaming through his body. It happened in maybe three seconds, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. He saw Claire running toward him, saw one of the soldiers with his rifle up and pointed at him, saw the hard look on his face as he pulled the trigger. The last second burned into his memory—Claire stopping in front of him with her hands held out, yelling for the solider not to shoot. Then the bullet hit and she flew back, her body crumpling to the ground.