Marcus Pelegrimas - Blood Blade

Henry opened his mouth and let out a loud groan. Just then, a bullet from Walter’s rifle whipped through the air and snapped Henry’s head around. Since the fresh Nymar seemed to be more scared of Henry than of Paige, they scattered like a flock of birds flushed from the same bush. That bit of motion was enough to catch Henry’s eye, and he pounced on the first one that got within his reach. Consumed by a pained frenzy, he ripped open the hapless Nymar’s chest in one swipe.

Paige knocked aside the fleeing Nymar and summoned the will needed to change the shape of the stake until it curled around into another sickle. While Henry crouched over his dinner, Paige rushed at him with both weapons held at the ready.

Henry reared up. The Nymar spore he’d pulled from the man on the ground still hung from his mouth as he swung a fist at Paige. She ducked under the powerful swing and sank one of her blades into Henry’s thigh. After that, it was all she could do to hang on for the ride.

Henry spun around like a dog chasing its tail and kept swinging at Paige, who was attached to him by the weapon embedded in his muscle. She twisted and ducked while his own movements kept her out of his reach. All the while, he kept gnawing on the oily black thing between his teeth. Hanging on as best she could, Paige tried to get the impaled weapon to shift again. Before she could do so, Henry’s ape-like hand slapped against her arm and knocked her away with enough force to rip the weapon from his own flesh.

Henry staggered and rubbed at his eyes. The color drained from his face as he stared directly at Paige and groaned, “Hungry.” Then he clamped a hand around her throat. He’d moved so fast that she didn’t even realize he had her until her feet were off the ground and her back was being slammed against the wall of the parking structure.

“He’s got her!” Walter shouted as he fired, worked the rifle’s lever, and fired again. When Misonyk’s bodyguard pulled himself up, Walter quickly worked the rifle’s lever, lowered his aim and pulled the trigger. The round exploded from the rifle at such a high rate of speed that it cut through the bodyguard like a laser beam.

The bodyguard stared up at Walter with one good eye and another that had just been turned into a messy hole. He opened his mouth to bite down on Walter’s leg, but instead felt the stock of Walter’s rifle crack against the bloody hole in his eye socket. Dropping to his knees and pressing both hands to his face, the bodyguard howled in pain and fought to regain his senses.

Cole kept his eyes on Misonyk, but also caught sight of another shape rushing in from the darkness. He didn’t have to look over there to know that the burly figure was the second muscle-bound bodyguard coming to join his master. With Misonyk closing in on him, Cole reached into his jacket for one of the antidote syringes Paige had given him. Although he was fairly quick on the draw, Misonyk knocked the syringe from his hand in a blur of motion. Before Cole could reach for another syringe, Misonyk extended his arm and slashed at his jacket, tearing away that entire pocket.

“You disgust me,” Misonyk said as he threw the syringes to the ground and stomped them under his heel. “Chicago is practically mine and I took this place over in a matter of days. Now that Henry has provided some wolves to fight for my cause, I’ll be able to make every last one of you sadistic, godless Skinners pay for the pain you’ve caused.”

Listening to the howls and screams coming from the parking structure, Cole expected to hear sirens or some other sign of a police presence. Instead it seemed as if the entire town was curled up and ignoring the battle being waged within its boundaries.

“Henry will feed and allow me to claim this city for my own,” Misonyk growled. “He should be done with that bitch of yours before my partners have finished dealing with this town’s police.”

“And maybe you and that big, crazy hunchback of yours should lie down in another hospital room so you can whisper in each other’s ears,” Cole replied. It wasn’t his best insult, but it was good enough to get an angry twitch from Misonyk. “Then you can play God all you want with the one person on this planet that’s crazy enough to believe you.”

He could see that his words prickled against Misonyk’s skin. The corners of the Nymar’s eyes kept twitching and his lip jerked upward as if it had been hooked by a fishing line. He walked toward Cole slowly, but snapped his hand out to grab the weapon in Cole’s hands and take it away as if he were disarming a small child. When Cole turned and started running toward the car, Misonyk laughed.

“I admit, I didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer to run,” he said. “The Skinners must surely have fallen since the days when Jonah Lancroft was among them. Or perhaps that was a fluke. Perhaps you have always been an order of morbid braggarts who pick at carcasses and then strut about as if they are to be feared.”

Cole made it to the car and got the trunk open. Knowing he wouldn’t have much time to work, he rummaged through the towels stuffed on top of Paige’s cases. He took out the plastic retainer case she’d given him, opened it and managed to find the thing he was after. His hands worked feverishly as blood from his palms soaked into the white towel. Within seconds he could hear footsteps behind him that were quick enough to have come from a rat scrambling across a hard-wood floor.

“My offer was for you to run, Skinner,” Misonyk practically whispered into his ear. “Not for you to dig out another toy to be used against me.” Grabbing Cole by the shoulder and spinning him around, he looked to the second bodyguard and growled, “Search him.”

Cole raised his arms high over his head and dropped Paige’s towel. Looking past the two Nymar, he saw Walter still in his perch, glancing nervously back at him. He looked away from Walter as the bodyguard roughly patted him down.

“I cannot abide a coward,” Misonyk sneered.

The bodyguard’s fangs extended from his gums, and the muscles in his jaw twitched with the anticipation of sinking all three sets into fresh meat. No venom dripped from the slender set of fangs, making it clear he wanted Cole to spend his last moments kicking and flailing.

“Did you ever tell any of your followers how much you cried when you were laying on your back on Lancroft’s floor?” Cole asked before the bodyguard could get any closer.

With a subtle motion from Misonyk, the bodyguard froze.

The air was cold against Cole’s face, and the chaotic sounds from the garage rumbled through the park. Sirens and gunshots finally echoed from farther down the street. Cole even thought he could hear tires squealing and people shouting, but that was just background static. As Misonyk leaned in closer, Cole’s ears filled with the pounding of his own heart mixed with the mad Nymar’s voice.

“What…did you say?” Misonyk asked ominously.

“I saw your memories,” Cole said in the steadiest voice he could manage. “I saw how you laid on that floor with Lancroft’s spear in your chest, crying like a little…like a little bitch every time Lancroft or one of his men would do whatever the hell they wanted to you.” Even though he somehow got his words out, Cole thought his own nervousness might overtake him. Sweat pushed out of his face when he added, “I’ll bet you liked it. Maybe that’s why you want to find more Skinners. Maybe you just miss the days when Lancroft would—”

Misonyk’s hand clamped around his throat in the space between heartbeats. Jagged claws pressed against his windpipe, turning Cole’s head so he was forced look directly into the Nymar’s twitching eyes. Cole let out a breath that caused his body to droop within Misonyk’s grasp. That way, he was able to line up his left hand with the thick black tendril that ran beneath Misonyk’s skin and reached all the way to the top of his scalp. Then, using every bit of strength he had, Cole delivered a single blow to Misonyk’s neck.