A/N – Thanks to everyone who left me a wonderful review; I'm glad y'all are having a ball. A word of caution: heavy descriptions of violence and gore prevail in this chapter so FYI. I'm a Hostel and Martyrs viewing, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Saw watching kinda person so my gore tolerance is quite high. Not sure where the rest of you guys stand though. So, I thought I'd warn you. Happy reading.
Part IV
Tara growled audibly as they were plunged in total darkness, her growls so loud and fierce that Pam felt the vibrations of it emanating from her progeny's chest into her own.
"Easy," Pam soothed, placing a steady hand on Tara's tense shoulder. "It's not close by though I don't know which short bus idiot decided that using grenades in such a structurally unsound environment was a good idea."
Tara huffed out a laugh as she climbed off Pam's lap. "We should go," she informed her maker quietly, her mirth a brief fleeting moment of reprieve that the engulfing darkness stole just as quickly as it passed Tara's lips. Tara held out a hand, knowing that with their vampiric eyesight, they could see just as clearly as they could when the tunnels were still lit but wanting, needing to exact gallantry on behalf of her maker.
Pam heard the despondency in Tara's voice, felt the wash of despair trickle past Tara's defenses into the bond. She gripped Tara's hand, allowed the younger vampire to pull her to her feet then reached out to cup Tara's cheek. "Hey," she began in a gentle tone. When Tara cut her eyes away from her, bond thrumming with shame, Pam gently but firmly turned Tara's head back towards her. "Look at me," she demanded softly. When Tara turned an endless midnight gaze onto her, she reached down, swiped her thumb over her progeny's full bottom lip, let her finger linger over pillow-y flesh. "We're getting out of here," she told Tara. Azure blue eyes were resolute as they bore into bleak mahogany orbs. "Even if we have to punch holes through the walls or blow this fuckin' place apart, we will get out here." She shuddered when Tara kissed the tip of her thumb, her tongue peeking out to lick at her snow-kissed skin though subtly puckered lips.
"I will get you out here, Tara," Pam vowed solemnly as she leaned down to replace her thumb with her lips. She kissed Tara then, the press of her mouth against the young vampire's firm, soft, lingering. "I promise," she whispered when she pulled back.
Tara's eyes pricked with tears she refused to let fall. She swallowed when Pam resumed stroking those long fingers soothingly down her cheek. "I believe you," Tara finally whispered, having felt Pam's determination ignite the bond like a white-hot flame.
"Good." Pam leaned forward and recaptured Tara's lips in a brief, hard kiss that left them both panting and more than a little breathless when they finally parted. "Let's go." Dropping her hand from Tara's cheek, Pam started off in the direction of the explosions.
"Wait!" Tara cried out when she cottoned on to the path her maker was determined to take. "You want to go towards the people with the bombs?!" She sped up to Pam and gripped at her maker's shoulder, incredulity and disbelief coloring the features of her face, her eyes betraying more than a little of the fear she felt inside. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"
"The others might be there," Pam snapped, her abruptly brusque tone and mercurial temper throwing Tara off balance and sending emotional vertigo down the bond. 'Eric might be there,' she added silently as she resumed walking down the tunnel with quick but measured steps.
When she realized that her back was painfully absent of Tara's presence, Pam pivoted, her eyes stormy and her lips slightly parted, a biting remark poised and ready on the tip of her tongue.
The wounded look on Tara's face gave her pause. Sighing, she walked back to where the young vampire remained rooted.
"Eric might there," she voiced aloud, nodding in the direction of the rumbles. She hesitated when Tara remained silent then reached up and brushed three fingers tentatively down a smooth dark cheek. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," she murmured, glaucous tinged eyes remorseful as they observed pale fingers wander down the strong line of Tara's jaw.
Tara reached up, plucked Pam's fingers from her jaw then brought them to her lips. Kissing each tip, she sought for a pair of eyes that in the dark, glowed like blue ice. "That's all I wanted to hear," she said softly. She pressed a kiss to the inside of Pam's wrist then let go. "Let's go."
Neither vampire spoke as they prowled down the tunnel, their eyes wide and ears cocked. Fists clenched and shoulders tightened as they picked up every stray drip of water, every spasmodic creak, every huff of stale, musty air.
Pam held up a hand, signaling Tara to halt as the tunnel spat them out in what looked like a mini bunker room. A new tunnel yawned outwards at the end of the room but what caught Pam's undivided attention was the row of lockers situated by the wall.
Three were empty; their metal doors flung wide open to reveal empty shelves and hooks but the fourth was ominously closed. Pam motioned Tara forward even as she began cautiously walking towards the row of lockers.
"This is like the setup to a very bad joke," Tara muttered from behind Pam. She eyed the closed locker with a mixture of trepidation and disdain. "Or a horror movie."
"Fortune favors the bold," Pam drawled dryly. Cerulean blue eyes skidded sideways in amusement at Tara's audible scowl. "Ladies first?" she offered, waving a practiced hand at the locker.
"Hell no!" Tara spat out. She took a step back, imitated Pam's gesturing hand with a mocking flourish. "After you," she said mock sweetly, purposefully emphasizing the last word.
"Spineless," Pam jabbed though there was no real heat behind her words. She glared at the locker for a moment, long enough to feel ripples of tension thundering down from Tara's end of the bond. Then, she shrugged and reached out to yank the locker door open.
Tara's back went ramrod straight as the locker groaned open, her entire body one raw nerve. Half expecting something to leap out, her muscles almost protested the way she abruptly relaxed them as her obsidian gaze locked onto what looked like a small arsenal.
"Fuckin' A," Tara breathed out. A glimmer of hope flickered within her as she moved to stand next to Pam. "We've hit jackpot."
Pam flashed a set of pearly white teeth in her progeny's direction. "Load up," she instructed needlessly. She reached in, pulled out two Glocks and tossed one to Tara who caught it with effortless ease. They both took a moment to check the gun's clip. Next, Pam reached for the stake thigh holsters. Strapping it securely around her thigh, she relieved the upper shelf of two stakes and slid them in place.
Tara unhooked a shoulder holster loaded with two revolvers attached from where it hung on the inside of the locker door. Shrugging it on, she tightened the straps, checked the guns for ammunition then reached in for a box of wooden bullets. She emptied the box into her pocket just as Pam clipped a grenade belt buckle around her waist.
"Structurally unsound?" Tara reminded her maker as she stared pointedly at Pam's newly appointed weapons.
"Last resort," Pam sassed back as she reached for a silver short sword tucked in its scabbard. She flung it over her back, pulled the strap over her shoulder and across her chest then readjusted it so that the handle lay within easy reach by the side of her head.
"God, that's hot," Tara admitted, staring at Pam with a sword's scabbard lying diagonally down her back. Onyx eyes glazed over with desire as they ran rampant down the length of Pam's body. With her body decorated with weaponry, Pam looked like some kind of warrior queen. 'Valkyrie,' Tara thought, licking her lips. Unconsciously, she took a step forward.
"Focus," Pam admonished though her eyes twinkled with mirth and unabashed delight as she enjoyed Tara's blatantly lustful stare. She tucked two magazines down her cleavage then jerked her chin towards the katana. "Suit up."
Tara gave herself a mental shake, tossed Pam a wry smile then grabbed the katana. She tied the saya's strings around her waist, readjusted the colts under each arm then pulled out the Glock she had temporarily tucked into her pants. "Ready when you are," she informed Pam, all traces of humor wiped from her voice as the grim reality of their situation bore down on her again.
Pam nodded, her expression smoothing out to an unreadable blank canvas. "Stay close," she ordered, her own Glock trained stiffly in front of her. She made her way to the exit tunnel, Tara at her heels.
xxxxxxxx
"Pam?"
The vampire in question slid a questioning cobalt gaze sideways, a small gracing her lips as they took in Tara's profile.
"That thing…demon," Tara amended as she met Pam's eyes. "Did you notice…"
"That it felt like one of us?" Pam finished as she refocused her attention back onto the darkness in front of her. "The Authority likes to experiment," she revealed dispassionately as they continued down the pitch-black tunnel. "They use witches –" Pam spat the word out as if it were something revolting on her tongue. "–to harness demon essences then force them into vampire captives." There was a pause and something unreadable passed over Pam's face before her impassive mask dropped back down. "Not many survive the transformation," she added curtly.
"Jesus," Tara whispered and even though Pam didn't catch the horrified look on her progeny's face, she felt it, a deep throb that pulsated against the bond's walls.
Pam grunted in response. Pale fingers tightened around the Glock in her hand as she continued to lead them down this seemingly never ending tunnel.
Silence lorded over maker and progeny as keen and wary eyes canvased every square of the darkness in front of them. Tara was so focused on lasering her obsidian gaze on every shadowy corner, every nook and cranny that could hide a potential assailant that when Pam stopped dead in her tracks in front of her, Tara walked straight into her maker's back. The force of her colliding into Pam's rigid body propelled her backwards, almost upsetting her balance as she strove to right herself.
"Pam?" Tension radiated off Tara in palpable waves, teeth clenched so tight that the muscles in her jaw ached. She stepped up next to her maker, fangs protracted and the Glock trained stiffly in front of her. "What is it?"
"Eric," Pam responded in a hushed tone. There was such yearning, such desperate longing in the blonde's voice that it broke Tara's heart.
The younger vampire placed a pacifying hand on the small of her maker's back. "Can you sense him?" she asked in an equally quiet voice.
"No, but his scent is here," Pam returned. She closed eyes, nostrils flaring as she picked apart Eric's unique combination of ice and salt from the mildew and staleness in the air. "It's faint, but he came through here." Hunger abruptly roared through her as she picked up Sookie's intoxicating half-fairy scent mingled with that of Eric's. "With Sookie," she gritted out as she tried to curb the bloodlust and hunger raging through her.
Tara nodded, unsurprised by the revelation. She pressed her palm into Pam's back, let her fingers brush up against the stiff corset material before dropping her hand. "Lead the way," she whispered softly.
Pam turned and bore a deep cerulean blue gaze into Tara's stalwart onyx ones. Trust. There was so much of it swimming in those dark depths that it both humbled and honored the blonde. Unable to resist, she reached out, played long fingers down Tara's cheek, crimson lips quirking as the younger vampire instinctively leaned into her touch.
"You and me," Pam whispered. Her voice quivered and her accent shifted but still, she stayed the course.
"In the wind," Tara replied, her voice soft, calm. She turned her head and pressed a heartfelt kiss to Pam's palm.
They continued walking then, Pam's eyes suddenly so iridescent with hope, that the sapphire orbs shone out from her face like electric blue beacons in the dark. When they came to a fork in the tunnel, Tara let Pam take point. She observed silently as Pam lifted her head, eyes once again closing as she used Eric's scent as a compass.
"This way," the blonde announced. She quickened her pace as she disappeared into the right tunnel, forcing Tara to match her hasty gait as she jogged lightly down the tunnel path.
When a staccato of gunfire echoed down the tunnel, Pam broke into a dead run but Tara, having read her maker's intentions the second they surfaced and percolated into the bond, blurred forward, grabbed Pam, spun her around and pinned her up against the wall.
"No." Tara's voice was harsh though her face was pained as she restrained the blonde.
"Let. Me. Go." Each word was purposefully enunciated, each letter coated with venom.
"No." Tara didn't back down, didn't flinch, didn't look away as Pam's eyes flashed blue fire. The blonde's rage was potent, toxic, flushing down to Tara's end of the bond like a noxious poison but still, Tara's didn't let go. "You are not going to run half-cocked into whatever hell is waiting for us at the end of this tunnel. Not when I fought so hard to get you out." Mahogany eyes drilled into steel-blue orbs. "I won't lose you." Again, she added silently as Pam's stormy blue gaze attempted to laser hole through her head. She returned the heated gaze with an enraged one of her own. "We stick to the plan."
Pam clenched her teeth, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she reined in the overwhelming urge to go to her maker's rescue. Tara was right; she wasn't thinking, only reacting, allowing her emotions to overrule her common sense. Her undead heart clenched when she was suddenly engulfed with the searing heat of Tara's pain via the bond.
Pain at the thought of losing Pam. Again.
Pam drew in a deep but needless breath. "Let me go," she repeated but her voice was softer, more contrite.
Tara studied Pam's face for a long moment before she nodded and released her. They resumed their light jog, tension thrumming between them like overly tight guitar strings. They slowed to a walk when they realized that two guards were posted at the mouth of the tunnel exit.
The guards were noticeably tense and noisily human judging from their erratically pounding pulses and heartbeats. Something had spooked them, if their stiffly trained assault rifles jutting out before them were any indication. They also wore night vision goggles to compensate for the disabling darkness they found themselves in.
As maker and progeny drew closer to the guards, the unmistakable metallic scent of blood busied the air in front of the, growing so strong and potent that Tara's eyes almost rolled to the back of her head even as her fangs dropped instinctively.
"Easy," Pam cautioned. She flowed a wave of soothing calm down to Tara through the bond, forced them both into immobility until Tara's eyes lost their bloodlust glaze and refocused back on the scene in front of her.
Tara nodded, looking a little sheepish, an expression that contradicted the fangs that still protruded from her upper lip. She tucked the Glock she held into the waistband of her pants then reached for the handle of her katana.
Pam was quick to cotton onto Tara's train of thought. Swords were quiet, noiseless. They could dispatch the guards without attracting attention, giving them the advantage of the element of surprise.
The vampires drew their swords in unison, the slight hiss of blades only audible to vampire ears.
Tara looked at Pam who in turn looked at Tara. Then they moved; their actions so in sync, so coordinated that they almost mirrored each other as they blurred up behind the sentinel guards and guided their respective swords through vulnerable flesh and bone.
Blood gushed in morbid torrents, drenching both Pam and Tara as jugular veins were cut and the spines of the guards severed. Twin wet plops followed as the newly decapitated heads dropped from the shoulders of the guards, rolling like macabre soccer balls on the floor, retching blood as they went.
The sound of the heads hitting the floor cost the pair the element of surprise. A round of bullets burst in their direction, chewing up the walls and spitting out mortar and concrete as it went.
Tara darted out from the cover of the tunnel, sliding her katana back into its saya as she went. Never stopping, and trusting Pam to watch her six, she reached for her Glock and squeezed off a retaliating round in the direction of the gunfire. The sound of bodies thumping unceremoniously to the ground sent a smile of grim satisfaction to crawl across her lips. She ignored the fact that this large circular room she and Pam had found herself in was splattered with remnants of vampire biohazard, its perimeters littered with bodies and body parts.
As Tara began clearing them a path, she noticed that they seemed to have found themselves in the epicenter of the labyrinth of tunnels. Tunnel mouths decorated the circumference of the room, yawning out in every possible direction.
One of the tunnels would grant them their freedom.
Tara hissed as a spray of bullets spat in her direction, two of them burying themselves into her shoulder and another grazing her ear. The silver ate at her flesh, the entrance wounds burning like someone had poured acid into them. Tara ducked into a tunnel mouth, used her fingers to locate and dig out the bullets before flinging them away, uncaring of how her fingertips blistered in the process. Not waiting for her shoulder to fully heal, she sprang back out, catching an unsuspecting guard under the chin with the butt of the assault rifle.
There was a nauseating crack as the bones in the guard's jaw shattered but Tara paid it nor the god-awful scream that followed no mind as she emptied a round of bullets into his chest. He dropped to the ground at Tara's feet but Tara simply kicked him out of the way and continued firing, her senses on overload from fear, adrenaline and a marrow-deep need to keep Pam safe.
Pam's mind was choke-full of colorful curses as she stayed in the cover of the tunnel, taking down guards that rushed her way or intended harm towards her progeny. If they did manage to make it out of here, she was going to silver Tara to her coffin and post a security detail around it for her unbridled recklessness.
"Fuckin' baby vamps!" Pam snarled venomously as she aimed her rifle at a nearby guard. Her bullet punched a hole through the side of the guard's head, spewing blood and brain matter out of the other side. The guard jerked, flailed then dropped to the ground but Pam was already training her weapon on her next targets.
Pale fingers tightened around the trigger, squeezing and taking out three more guards that thought to sneak up behind Tara. Blue eyes were incandescent with fear and rage as she watched Tara blur from one guard to another, punching, kicking and shooting as she went. The same eyes widened as a new contingent of guards materialized out from the far end of the circular room.
"Shit," Pam swore. The newly arrived guards were vampires and judging from the way their auras were pulsating with immense power, centuries older than she was.
Knowing that she couldn't stay hidden anymore, Pam lunged out into the melee, swinging her assault rifle into the nearest guard as she went. He doubled over as Pam batted him in the stomach with her weapon, crushed his larnyx with a quick hand chop then dropped like a sack of bricks to the ground when she fired her last two bullets into his head.
Pam didn't stop, wouldn't stop as she tossed away the rifle and wrenched the Glock from the waistband of her pants. Her only goal was to get to Tara. She began firing as she ran across the room, her bullets whizzing through the air to join the other hail of silver and wooden bullets zipping like deadly rain through the room. Bodies dropped as Pam riddled them with bullets, the blonde herself never slowing even as bullets punched holes into the side of neck, shattered a knee cap and pulverized a kidney.
"PAM!" Tara screamed as she watched one of the human guards stake Pam in her injured knee, causing her to stumble and fall. Pam still managed to snap the human guard's neck before three of the newly arrived vampire guards closed in on her, the lasers from their guns trained on Pam's heart. Instincts kicked in, fueled by a mind-numbing terror so great that it robbed her of all rationality. Tara blurred up to the guards, one hand squeezing off round after the round, the other ripping out her katana and starting a furious, unrelenting hacking that caused the blade to slice through arms, legs, necks and shoulders.
Pam wasn't rendered completely useless, however. Ignoring the way her left leg was screaming blue, bloody murder, her slowly healing kneecap grating against the broken shards of bones that were in the process of knitting themselves back together, she yanked out the stake sticking out from her thigh and sent it spinning into the nearest vampire guard.
The guard combusted on sight as the stake buried itself into his chest, piercing his heart. His two remaining comrades followed suit as Tara viciously swung her katana, cutting off their heads. Pam ducked and rolled off the side as one of the decapitated guards managed to pull the trigger before exploding into a puddle of goo, sending a spray of bullets in her direction.
"Pam!" Tara stood in front of her fallen maker, fangs elongated over a feral snarl. Tara looked almost rabid as hard obsidian eyes dared any one of the guards to come closer. Her finger twitched against the trigger of the Glock, itching to bury its bullets into the nearest living or undead body. When the two remaining human guards charged forward, shooting as they went, Tara simply ducked and twisted her body sideways to avoid bullets to the chest. She gritted her teeth against the harsh, operatic notes of pain singing down the length of her side, hips, arms and legs as bullets, both wooden and silver tore into her body. Not missing a beat, she didn't give the guards time to reload or squeeze off another round as she turned back, raised her bullet-riddled arms and shot them through the necks and head.
The two guards rocked back at the force of the bullets entering their bodies. They fell onto their back, dark red blood oozing from their fatal wounds.
By this time, Pam had recovered and was back on her feet. She didn't have the luxury of checking Tara over though she herself had to clench her teeth as her progeny's pain and agony roared down the bond like a white-hot flame.
"Stay close!" Pam growled over her shoulder as she stood back-to-back with Tara, gun cocked.
Tara managed to heed Pam's command for all of one second before the vampire guards opened fire at them, forcing them to split up in different directions to avoid the hiss of bullets.
The guards mimicked Tara and Pam's movements; three blurring off after Tara and the four after her maker. Tara howled as one of the older vampire guards caught her arm mid-blur, snapping it so viciously that the bones in her arms stabbed out of the confines of her flesh, skin peeling backwards like the opening petals of a morbid flower. She reacted by strafing him with bullets and at such a close range, aiming was unnecessary as three hit home in the guard's heart, shredding flesh and causing him to liquidate.
Tara didn't have time to realign her horribly mangled arm as the other two guards closed in on her. Glock now empty, she threw it aside and reached for the revolver under her good arm. Her actions triggered off twin rounds of bullets that spat with deadly accuracy in her direction. She ducked the spray of gunfire but with her strength flagging with every unhealed wound and injury, only managed to move so far. A bullet found a new home in her thigh, nicking her femoral artery, sending blood to vomit out. Tara fought the urge to succumb to unconsciousness, the pain her body was experiencing so intense and so all-encompassing that it was all she could do not to scream.
The younger vampire changed tactics. She flung herself into the dark of one of the tunnel mouths, buying herself scant seconds of precious time. Unsheathing her katana, she paused only to blindly snap the bone jutting out from her left arm back under her skin, almost biting her tongue in two as she held back a scream of pure agony. When she heard the sound of booted feet approach, she threw the katana in its direction, grabbed her revolver then blurred back out, shooting frantically at whatever was in front of her.
Luck was on Tara's side as she managed to dispatch one of the vampire guards but not before he threw a retaliating stake into her shoulder. Her katana stuck out of the second vampire guard's stomach and even as he shot a round of bullets in Tara's direction, Tara didn't back away. Instead, she contorted her body as much as she possibly could away from the trajectory of the hissing bullets, ducked the guard's swinging fist then came to a stop in front of him. She grabbed for the handle of the katana, yanked it sideways and tore open the guard's stomach. Nausea rolled up her throat when the guard's intestines spilled out in front of her but Tara pushed it down, pulled out the katana and ran it clean through his neck.
On the other side of the room, Pam and her troupe of vampire guards had exhausted their ammunition of bullets. Now, armed with stakes, swords and/or knives, they circled each other, predatory intent in every move.
One guard lunged forward, faking a wide overhead arc with his scimitar before pulling back at the last second only to try for a low cut that would have severed Pam at the knees. Pam, having been trained by Eric, by a Viking, saw that move coming from a mile away. She jumped up, avoided the swinging scimitar as it sailed under her temporarily suspended boots then made her short sword whistle through the air as she sliced the sharp end of its blade through the guard's neck.
As Pam landed back on her feet, she made one grave miscalculation: her swing at the decapitated guard left her front exposed and the three remaining guards took full advantage. The first punched her so hard in the stomach that she felt her insides disintegrate and blood explode into different parts of her body. The second plunged his King Arthur-esque longsword straight through her sternum. It pierced through her flesh like liquid fire, the silver gnawing at nerves and flesh before emerging out of her back and into the wall behind her, nicking her spine and effectively pinning her to the wall.
The third raised his stake, triumph glinting in his emerald green eyes but before he could bring his arm back down, the staccato sound of gunfire followed by a series of bullets punching through his body froze him in place. Body rigid, he stared at Pam, disbelief and shock coloring the features of his face before he dissolved into a puddle of blood and goo, revealing a swaying, battered and bloodied Tara standing in the middle of the room.
The two remaining guards reacted with split-second precision, one of them whipping out a throwing knife and sending it whizzing in Tara's direction. She deflected it weakly, using the barrel of her revolver to change its trajectory. It clattered to the floor behind her.
The second guard proved craftier. One hand still on the handle of the sword pinning Pam to the wall, he gave it an unpleasant twist, eliciting a pained cry from the blonde as the embedded part of the blade scraped against her spinal column. His other hand reached down for her grenade belt buckle. He yanked carelessly at it, pulling out several pins as he went. Smiling evilly at Tara, he tossed in her direction just as his partner sent three previously concealed silver shurikens spinning like deadly yo-yos towards Tara's legs.
As Tara's knees buckled, the throwing stars severing the muscles that allowed her to stand, her revolver slipped from her grasp as the last of her remaining strength left her. It dropped to the ground and skittered uselessly to the side.
"No…" Pam's eyes were wide with horror, cerulean blue eyes transfixed onto the sight of her fallen progeny collapsing next to the grenade belt buckle.
Resigned obsidian orbs were almost serene as they sought out and locked onto wide, terrified and stricken pools of steel-gray and winter-blue. Tara, with blood dripping from her split lips, trickling down from multiple bullet grazes on the sides of her head, her left arm bent at a crooked angle, her right shoulder sporting a large, ugly, gaping wound that cried crimson and the silver shurikens buried and smoking the flesh in her knees and thighs, offered Pam a small, bittersweet smile, trying to convey everything she felt, everything she would have felt had they more time together through that one simple act.
There was a series of clicks.
Then, a loud, ear-shattering bang thundered through the tunnels before the world exploded in a glorious burst of bright, hot, white light.
TBC