The Frenzy War (11 page)

Inspired by Michael's courage, Valeria charged at the werewolf on the left with Henri behind her while Michael swung at the one on the right.

Both beasts dropped into defensive postures and roared like lions.

Valeria's Blade sank into her target's right shoulder, Henri's into its left arm, severing the claw, which spun through the air. Blood from its open wrist splashed their legs. Valeria jerked her sword free, and she and Henri buried
their weapons into wolf flesh, their Blades butting against each other inside the beast's neck.

The werewolf's eyes rolled in its skull, and it opened its jaws to howl but only heaved blood. Its front right claw encircled Henri's Blade, and Valeria worked her weapon through sinew.

Then she turned her body sideways and flung the creature's head at the stairway. Her momentum caused her to sink to her knees in the blood-soaked carpet, and as she used her Blade for leverage to stand, she saw a werewolf crash into Eun above and send her flying down the stairs, the beast atop her.

The second monster Michael attacked nearly knocked the sword out of his hand, and he pirouetted to regain his balance and fend the beast off. He swung the Blade with great chopping motions, driving the beast across the room and away from the others.

We have to spread out or we're finished.

As the werewolf roared at him, he sensed the beast's frustration. The Blades were heavy and sharp, their deadly embrace almost impossible to evade. Michael had trained for this purpose for a decade and a half, and he did not intend to show his prey any mercy.

The creature planted its left leg behind it, dropped to its haunches, and seemed to pull itself inward. Then it launched at Michael, who dropped to one knee with his Blade raised in both hands and his head bowed forward.
The werewolf's momentum drove its body into the tip of the Blade, which split it open from chest to groin.

Feeling hot blood paint his back, Michael stood and pivoted on one foot, holding his Blade as a baseball player would a bat. The werewolf rolled across the floor, entangled in its own guts. Michael crossed the soggy floor as the beast managed to work its way up on its claws and knees, and he swung his Blade downward with grim accuracy.

The werewolf sitting atop Eun closed its powerful jaws over her face and snapped them together, shredding her mask. It threw its head to one side, spitting out her goggles, then fastened its fangs over her face again. Eun screamed even as Valeria buried her Blade into the back of the beast's neck. The Korean flailed for the hilt of her own sword, but her frantic movements proved useless.

When Valeria jerked her Blade free, blood splashed her goggles and mask. Blinded, she wiped the lenses of the goggles with one forearm, smearing the crimson. She raised her Blade again and brought it down with less ferocity because she did not wish for her weapon to injure Eun as well. The wounded woman continued to scream in agony.

The werewolf spread its front arms out, geysers of blood spraying out in multiple directions from the violated neck.

Valeria stepped back and kicked the beast, which rolled over. She did not know what sickened her more: the sight of the creature's head barely attached to its neck or Eun's face dangling in strips from her skull. She swung her Blade in a powerful arc that disconnected the werewolf's head.

Eun clapped her hands over her face, which only caused her screams to grow louder.

Valeria heard another scream above her: Myles. The remaining werewolf had clamped its jaws over his left forearm, making it impossible for the man to swing his Blade. The muscular warrior stood with his feet braced on different stairs, using his right hand to beat at the beast. The werewolf released his mauled arm and chomped on it again, and Myles dropped his Blade, which slid down the stairs. He threw his right arm around the monster's head, putting it in a feeble headlock as the creature's teeth split his bone. Myles screamed as his hand and wrist struck the floor, followed by spraying blood. With what must have been the last of his strength, he dove toward Valeria, dragging the beast with him. They rolled down the stairs together, a tangle of human and lupine limbs.

Valeria dropped her Blade, seized Eun's hands, and pushed the wounded woman out of harm's way.

The werewolf crashed upside down against the metal front door, and Henri and Michael fell upon it with their Blades, hacking the howling beast to pieces.

Valeria removed a small first aid kit from her coat and kneeled beside Eun, who continued to scream. She took out a syringe, pulled off its cap, and squirted the clear liquid, checking for air bubbles. Unable to discern such fine details in night vision, she took a chance and drove the needle into Eun's throat, injecting the morphine.

Eun grimaced, groaned, and whimpered, her once beautiful face a tattered and grisly mosaic.

The green glow of her night vision dimmed, and Valeria
realized someone had switched on an overhead light. Tearing the goggles off, she stood. The door, walls, and stairs glistened with blood.

Michael and Henri turned toward her, their clothes drenched and their Blades dripping gore. Myles lay motionless on the floor between two decapitated werewolves. Valeria's comrades removed their goggles.

“Look,” Michael said, staring past Valeria.

Spinning around, she gasped. Lying on the bloody carpet, the three werewolves first killed had changed shape: they no longer resembled manlike wolf hybrids but enormous black wolves. Jerking her head back, she saw the remaining two werewolf corpses changing before her eyes: drawing into themselves, assuming more recognizable lupine dimensions.

“Sacred Mary,” she said.

Michael retrieved his headset from the floor and spoke into it. “Come get us. Fast.”

“Help me,” Eun said in a strangled voice.

Valeria helped Eun to her feet. In the light, the woman's face appeared even more ghastly, like a melted crimson candle.

Michael removed a can of lighter fluid and squirted the stairs, walls, carpets, and corpses.

“What about Myles?” Henri said.

“Tonight we honor our dead with fire.”

A
wakening to the sound of his cell phone's ring tone, Willy glanced at his alarm clock, which flashed 4:20 at him. He switched on the light and answered the call without checking the display. Only someone from the department would call at this time.

“Diega.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“This is Sergeant Huntley from Night Watch Command,” a female voice said. “I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have an urgent call from Detective Faherty from the Arson squad in Queens.”
] Arson?
“Yeah, that's okay. Put him through.”

He heard a click, then a male voice. “Diega?”

“Speaking.”

“Faherty, Arson. We got a house burning in Rosedale. Call it a lost cause. When I entered the address into the
system, it spat out your name as the primary on a case involving the owners: Rodney and Jennifer Lourdes, Jason Lourdes's parents.”

Willy sat up. “Are they okay?”

“I doubt it very much. We got neighbors all up and down the sidewalk, but no one claiming to be a Lourdes. If they're in there, they're not coming out alive.”

Fuck.
“Is it arson?”

“Too soon to say for sure, but between you and me, I'd say that's a big affirmative.”

“I'm on my way.”

“You'll be wasting your time. The fire isn't out yet, and even when it is it won't be safe to walk around in there.”

“I need to see it. What time should I come?”

“What time does your shift start?”

“At 0800.”

“I'll see you then. Grab another couple of hours ifyou can.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Closing his phone, Willy climbed back under the covers, but he did not fall back asleep.

An hour later, his phone rang again. “Hello?”

“This is Sergeant Huntley from Night Watch Command again. Detective Faherty from Arson would like to speak to you.”

Déjà vu.
“Put him through.”

A click. “Diega, you'd better get over here as fast as you can.”

Angelo drove the passenger van through the security gate and into the warehouse parking lot, where he backed it up alongside the cargo van. The occupants had removed their
goggles as soon as he drove away from the inferno they had left behind. Eun continued to wail even with the morphine Valeria had given her. Despite their victory, a pall hung over them because of Myles's death.

Michael hopped out of the van first, carrying Myles's sword, and opened the loading bay door. Valeria supported Eun as Henri and Angelo helped them out. Inside the loading bay, they placed Eun on one of two gurneys they had left there, and Angelo and Henri rushed her to the steel door, which Angelo unlocked, and into the gloom.

Michael locked the door behind them. “What can you do for her realistically?”

“I can reduce her pain, and I can sew as much of her face back together as possible, but she'll be disfigured for the rest of her life.”

“But she'll live.”

“Yes.”

Michael slapped her so hard that she cried out. She turned to him, her cheek stinging. It never occurred to her to strike him back.

“You dropped your Blade to pull her away from the stairway.”

“I was trying to keep her from getting harmed.”

“Don't ever drop your Blade. You risked the life of every other man in that room.”

“I'm sorry.”

Michael raised the extra sword between them. “Look what happened to Myles. The moment he dropped his Blade, he was a dead man. Now go do what you can for Eun.”

Feeling tears form in her eyes, Valeria ran after the gurney.

After awakening at 5:00 A
M,
Mace dressed in layers of sweats and went for his morning run with his dog, Sniper, a daily ritual. They followed Fourth Avenue up to the Verrazano Bridge, crossed over to Fifth Avenue, ran down to Sixty-eighth Street, then back up to Eighty-first Street. Mace no longer ran for speed or distance but simple cardiovascular. It had taken him a while to grow accustomed to the Brooklyn terrain, but he now loved it, and so did Sniper. The cold air filled his lungs, and he walked back to his house, cooling down, and peeled off the top sweatshirt as they climbed the stairs.