Chapter 4

It turns out my estimate of surviving fifteen seconds was woefully optimistic.

The Hound of Hades didn't leap at us; it seemed to shimmer in my night vision, before suddenly reappearing in front of me, traveling the ten feet in an instant. There was no time to move; no time to adjust my aim, or even shout in surprise. There was no time to come to peace with my imminent death.

The only thing that saved me was Sal's lightning quick reflexes.

In truth, the massive salamander was already moving before the Hound started forward. His leap was direct, meaning that it carried him into my left shoulder, knocking me slightly to the side as he tried to intercept the Hound. The bodies of the two over-sized beasts crashed together with a sickening thud and an explosion of sparks.

Even in his enlarged form, Sal almost didn't survive.

Having the mass of a large dog doesn't do much against several hundred pounds of unnatural canine muscle hurtling at you via supernatural means. He fared no better than a deer against a car. His body was thrown down and to the side, the larger beast trampling him beneath its searing gait.

The encounter slowed the Hound down for perhaps a fraction of a second, which was just enough time for Anya to flash toward me, one of her swords whipping toward the canine form from the side. It was a blur of silvery-green light in my night vision as the blade cut through the space the beast occupied.

The attack, as swift and as accurate as one could hope, had absolutely no effect on the beast.

The sword passed through the Hound as if it weren't even there. My eyes widened in shock as the obsidian dog crashed into me, whole and sound, at bone-breaking speed.

I crashed to the forest floor, and felt several things snap as I did. The steel rod that was slung across my back, the most powerful weapon I carried, wasn't exactly something I'd choose to break my fall. My vision swam as pain rocked my body, and I gasped for breath as my lungs seemed to collapse.

I felt movement around me, and heard a scream that might have been Anya. The weight over me shifted but never went away. A desperate wheeze brought some much-needed oxygen to my body, but there was definitely something wrong in my chest.

Foremost of my concerns, of course, was the fact that a bajillion ton dog was sitting on me, the low growl in its throat vibrating across every inch of my body.

My vision was just beginning to return as distant sounds began to register. I saw the crimson and emerald eyes overhead as they swung around, looking back toward the graveyard. The beast tensed, its claws digging in to the reinforced leather I wore, and then it was gone in a flash.

I gasped as the Hound disappeared, flickering out of sight. With its weight gone, breathing came slightly easier, but only barely. I couldn't even begin to think about sitting up, though, as my chest was still in agony, a wet fluttering sensation accompanying a sharp pain and haggard breath as I inhaled.

Moments after the dog departed, Anya was at my side. My glasses were skewed, but I could see where a set of jagged rends had torn through her leather jacket. Pale blood glittered across the surface, and the punky vampire held herself as if in serious pain.

"Woody, are you okay?" she asked quickly, clearly worried at the sight of me.

I gestured feebly at my chest, and made another gasping sound in my attempt to speak. A gurgling sound accompanied that, one that didn't sound good at all.

"Okay, get ready," she said as she dropped to her knees beside me and immediately unzipped her coat. She was nude beneath it, something not all that surprising if you knew her. Beautiful pale skin was exposed to the early morning air, the twirling and curling silver lines of her body-length tattoo glinting in my night vision. But the sight of her fit form and pert breasts was ruined somewhat by the torn and bleeding flesh of her stomach.

She tore her helmet off and lowered herself across me, her lips seeking out mine. I managed to get an arm up to hold her off just long enough to gather my thoughts.

As a vampire of the White Court, Anya didn't feed on blood. Instead, her kind fed on the life force of their victims. While different branches of the family went about it in different ways, some more pleasant than others, the end result was usually the same. The vampire was left re-energized, giving them strength, speed, and stamina well beyond human limits, and a life of eternal and beautiful youth.

The victim's own life was decidedly shorter.

Silver eyes flashed over me, the girl's hunger urging her forward, telling her to take my life force for herself. But my friend had learned to control herself better over the last year, and she refrained from killing me in a maddened rush.

Instead, she waited for my consenting nod, and then my world spun as she fed from me.

Parental Advisory: If you want your kids to live long and healthy lives, don't let them make out with White Court vampires.

As Anya pressed her lips to mine, a warm and altogether pleasant sensation replaced the pain that racked my body. It was the feeling of her power washing over me, igniting the pleasure centers in my brain enough to override any other sense, be it physical or mental. Her hunger began to feed from me at the same time, taking energy from myself and passing it on to the demon that existed within her.

For anyone else, the exchange would be pleasant but deadly. A brief encounter might leave them feeling weak, while a longer one might have a lasting effect on their health. If she fed deep enough, she could kill without a second thought, leaving nothing but an empty husk behind.

For me, things were a little different.

Several years before I'd met Anya, I was exposed to an incredible form of magic that left me changed for the better. An apple seed from a magical golden fruit had been bestowed upon me by a creature I had helped. Once consumed, the seed had healed the injuries I'd taken, as well as granted me an enhanced rate of recovery ever since.

I wasn't Wolverine or anything. If I took a bullet to the heart, I wasn't coming back. But wounds that should have taken months to heal took days instead; smaller injuries took even less time. On top of that, my eyesight had been improved, to the point that I no longer needed my enchanted glasses for corrective vision. And when I exercised, my body recovered from fatigue faster than others.

It was an incredible gift. But it was nothing compared to the healing I was capable of when a White Court vampire fed upon me.

We'd discovered it by accident when we first met. Anya had been mortally wounded, and her hunger had taken over her conscious mind. She'd fed from me — much too deeply to hope for me to survive. But when it was over, the vampire was healed, and I was still breathing.

Truth be told, my own injuries had been healed as well, and I was left feeling energized and refreshed.

It seemed impossible at the time. Her cousins had never seen anything like it. But despite numerous feedings, my life force — and therefore my life itself — was never depleted. The source of my miraculous healing, the energy of the apple seed, fed her hunger without any harm coming to me. And in the process, her hunger brought that energy forth, infusing my body with it.

Since then, we'd experimented with duplicating the effect. Our efforts confirmed that as long as I was in a state of meditation, where I was actively trying to heal myself using the power of the seed, her hunger would draw on that power rather than my life. I wasn't great at meditation, but it didn't take much to activate the healing nature of the seed. The right state of mind would trigger the power, even though I couldn't actually feel it.

And I no longer had to find a quiet space to recover. With practice, I'd gotten to the point where I could mentally recite a mantra that fueled my healing while doing other things. Including allowing a White Court vampire to practice her feeding habits.

If I wasn't concentrating, though, then her hunger would feed on me, and I'd be no better off than any other mortal.

That's why I'd held her off for a moment. I needed to get myself in the right state of mind. I needed to reach for that source of power within me, which would allow us both to heal as she fed.

"Mmmm," she moaned into my mouth as she writhed against me.

It was enough to draw my attention back to reality. I blinked my eyes open, and saw that at some point she'd straddled my waist. I was sitting up, and holding her tightly to me as she ran her hands through my hair.

Somehow I managed to remember where we were, and the danger that we were in. The sound of explosions echoed through the trees, and I could see flashes of light back in the direction of the graveyard. I pushed at her shoulders, and Anya withdrew slightly, a warm smile filling her lips as her argent eyes stared lazily at me.

"Warm," she mumbled as I gently pushed her to the side.

"Come on, Anya. Concentrate," I whispered, even as I tried to do the same. We'd found that whenever she fed from me, Anya ended up entranced with the flavor of my power almost as much as my mind became inebriated by hers. If she'd used all of her power on me, I wouldn't have been able to remember my name, much less resist her obvious charms.

"Mmm-hmm," she moaned, not quite back to her senses.

I scrambled to my feet, and as I did, the aches started coming back. But the quick bout of healing had repaired whatever serious damage had been done to my chest and lungs, and I found that I could breath easier. There was still pain, and I had a long ways to go before I'd be one hundred percent, but I was at least mobile.

As I looked about, I saw that the Hound had knocked me several yards back into the forest. I suppose I was lucky he hadn't crushed me into the side of a tree. I spotted Sal, who looked to be in the same shape I was in. He'd returned to his normal salamander size, rather than holding the combat form, and was draped across an exposed tree root. His head turned toward me when he saw me up and about.

"You okay, buddy?" I asked, to which he gave a somewhat affirmative trill. He stood up, but looked a little wobbly. "Take it easy," I told him, motioning him back down. I hobbled back over to the edge of the clearing, staying close to a tree to avoid being seen. As I looked out over the graveyard, I could guess at what had distracted the Hound.

Out in the open space, half a dozen wizards were doing their best to kill each other.

I flinched as I saw one new arrival, a man that appeared to be in his thirties or so, thrust his hand at the large man I'd seen before. The air shimmered with unseen power as a spell ripped through the air at the older wizard.

The behemoth simply raised his left arm, his hand grasping the gnarled staff of wood in front of him. As he motioned with it, a wall of dirt flowed up as if it were water, forming a partial dome of earth to intercept the shimmering spell. It exploded on impact, making the air crackle with energy as power flickered in every direction.

The younger wizard charged the elder, his sword held aloft in his right hand while his left palm thrust forward at the earthen wall still between him and his target. A shout escaped his lips, and the air shimmered a second time as a wall of pure kinetic force struck the barricade, shattering it and sending dirt flying. The wizard charged through it, only to find the elder man's sword swinging through the space where the wall had stood.

The sound of metal striking metal filled the air as the sword crashed down onto the younger man's left arm. I blinked in surprise, fulling expecting him to lose the arm — if not his life — to the lightning quick attack. But as the sword swept down his forearm, the young man's sleeve tore away, and dark metal sparked beneath it.

The younger wizard's sword whipped around from the other side, and I thought for a second he might succeed in defeating the giant. But the bearded man shifted the gnarled staff in his left hand, and a diagonal column of dirt shot up from between his feet. The shaft, spreading three feet in diameter as it went, crashed into the chest of the younger man, and sent him flying back. I saw him spin head over heels several times before crashing to the ground. He managed to land on both feet, with his left arm extended down to the ground. His fingers dug into the soil, slowing his momentum.

But the blow was enough to knock him back toward the ring of walking dead that formed around them. Sensing his sudden arrival in the midst, the undead surged forward to grab at him.

The zombies were ghastly creatures in varying states of decay. Some were fresh, while others looked like they might have been torn from a centuries old slumber. Where natural skin and tissue had decayed, a nauseating green flesh formed in its place. The dark magics clung to them, giving them form.

The undead encircled those that had raised them, forming a protective ring in the middle of the field. Most were immobile, simply staring slackly into the sky as they rocked back and forth. But as the young wizard fell into their midst, those closest to him took action, pulling at him with their feeble arms.

I saw the young man begin to work his way through the mobile skeletons, kinetic blasts shattering some while his sword cleaved rotting heads from emaciated corpses. It looked like the zombies weren't any real threat to him, as long as they didn't slow him down long enough for the older wizard to strike him unawares.

I looked back to the older man, but saw that he was busy with another wizard that had appeared, this one even younger. The second had somehow slipped through the ring of the dead like a shadow, and was now busy flinging spells at the larger wizard.

I watched as his dark coat swirled about the young man as he held his left hand out toward the giant. The green and purple mist between them rippled and swirled in midair, before condensing into what looked like jagged ice-cycles. Once they had formed, the young man thrust his arm out, and the frozen projectiles shot forward.

The elder wizard couldn't get an earthen wall up in time to stop the assault, and a dozen or more ice-cycles crashed into his body at breathtaking speeds. The man staggered, and I held my breath in anticipation of seeing him fall. But despite the violent barrage, no permanent damage seemed to be inflicted. He righted himself and spun his sword through the air, the blade shining for a second as it intercepted the next spell the young man had sent, splitting a fireball in two. The flames wavered and broke apart as they flew to either side of him.

Undeterred, the young man continued his onslaught of differing spells. A wind funnel spun out from the left hand, followed by a kinetic blast from the right. Those were followed by a brilliant display of dizzying sparks, and then a small stone cross that seemed to be thrown by some telekinetic power.

As the young wizard worked, I watched him, amazed by the speed at which he hurled so many spells. There were no shouts or incantations, no forms or gestures. Only a grim look of determination and the back and forth motion of his arms.

But as he moved, my eyes caught sight of something. As his left hand thrust out, sending a spell that caused the earth around the older man to roll up around his calves, the younger man's right hand was drawn back, preparing the next spell. I caught a glimpse of movement along his gloved fingers, the barest glint of metal shifting in the faint light, and then that hand was thrown forward, unleashing five bullet-sized fireballs that spun around the older wizard's defensive attempts.

For all his efforts, the young man had little gains to show. While the plethora of different attacks was keeping the older man off balance, none of them held enough power to incapacitate him. Attacks that I was sure should would have brought anyone low did little more than cause the giant to stagger.

Perhaps if the other young wizard had broken free of the zombies, the barrage of spells might have been enough to distract the man, allowing him to ambush the older wizard. But I saw that the wizard with the metal on one arm was now retreating from the Hound, which had appeared at his side with alarming speed.

The beast had shredded what remained of his left sleeve in a violent swipe of its paw, and was now trying to finish the man off. I stared hard at the arm that I'd thought bore some sort of metal armor, only to realize that there was no armor at all. Instead, it looked as if the wizard's arm was itself made of metal.

An explosion from the other direction drew my attention, and I turned just as a young woman crashed through the woods and appeared beside me.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" she whispered breathily as she looked me over. I did the same to her, flinching at her unexpected arrival.

The girl was young, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties. Long straight hair the color of fresh wheat was pulled back into a long braid that hung limply across her back. Blue-green eyes, wide with alarm, were the most striking feature of a pale and attractive face.

Her slim body hugged at the tree she'd rounded to reach me, but tensed as a blade appeared at her throat.

"Whoa!" I shouted, bringing a hand up to stave off Anya's sudden attack. But the vampire had stayed her own hand, leaving the blade up but ready should the girl prove to be trouble.

"Who are you?" Anya growled, shooting a suspicious scowl at the girl. I noted that she hadn't bothered to zip her jacket back up, which left a lot of pale skin still showing. Her stomach, freshly healed and without a trace of the injuries she'd had, was no longer a deterrent from noting her beauty. Her skin almost shone with power, causing the silver tattoo winding around her to glint brightly in the night.

"Penny! I'm Penny!" the girl whispered quickly, her wide eyes traveling the length of the blade beneath her chin.

"What's going on?" I asked as my attention was drawn toward a far corner of the clearing. There I saw another two wizards in a more physical duel, the speed of their movements almost too fast for me to comprehend.

The taller of the two was shirtless, and wielding a Thai Dha sword with shocking precision. The second wizard was a whirlwind as he countered the other man's attacks with his own samurai sword. The younger of the two, really no more than a boy, deflected a swipe from the dha sword and spun almost weightlessly, kicking off a tombstone to propel himself at the other man. His samurai sword slashed toward the other, but the bare-chested man slipped a leg back to support his weight as he bent backward at the waist.

The samurai's attack missed, but the young man's left hand moved in a flash, drawing a short tanto sword from a sheath at his hip. Rather than try and cut the man with the smaller blade, he instead released it, and I saw the silver steel disappear into the gut of the shirtless man.

Unfortunately, his attack left him vulnerable to the taller man's free hand. Even off-balance and sporting what had to be a lethal injury, the shirtless man twisted his wrist, his fingers curled into hooks as he made a backhanded slashing motion.

Five arcs of blue light appeared, growing in length as they spun toward the younger man. By the time they reached him, they had become thin crescent moons. Each tore at the young wizard, burning like lightning while cutting like steel.

Blood arced through the air as the boy fell away, landing in a heap beyond a headstone.

"Rai!" Penny shouted, darting away from us and toward the pair.

"Damnit," I cursed, before setting after her. Anya was only a second behind me, until her superior speed propelled her ahead.

The taller man rose, pushing himself up from the ground where he'd fallen. I saw him look down at the short sword in his gut, and with a casual disregard, pulled the blade from him and threw it aside. That such a brutal attack had not finished him was disturbing. What was even more disturbing was that no blood spilled from the gaping wound.

The worst, though, was his face. The dull, slack, unfeeling expression that made him look all too much like the zombies I'd seen.

"Féargaoithe!" Penny shouted as she ran at the man, raising what I took to be a short copper wand.

The man turned at her shout, having been focused on the fallen boy. I caught the barest hint of something glinting in his eyes, something almost human, as he looked at the oncoming girl. Then my view was obscured as thousands of blades of grass were launched into the air.

The storm of clippings swirled toward him, spinning quickly about. I saw the man flail about for a second, his sword trying to cut through the spinning wall of grass. Where it passed, flashes of blue-white light flickered out, and the stench of ozone grew as we ran closer.

"Féarcloí!" the girl shouted. When she did, all of the loose cuttings suddenly flew at the man, adhering to his body as if covered in glue. He looked down at himself as every inch of his body became covered in turf. Before he could even think of a way to counter such an attack, the girl shouted a third spell. "Féartine!"

The man spasmed as every piece of grass touching him burst into flame, as if caught in a wildfire. His arms flailed, and I saw his mouth open into a silent scream as his flesh burned.

But despite the trauma of such an attack, when the fire was spent, the man was still standing. He must have been in horrific pain, for his entire body was marked with shallow burns. What had been evenly tan skin was now a blotchy patchwork of blacks and reds. Even the loose pants he'd worn had been mostly burned away, leaving barely any spans of flesh untouched.

And yet still he was standing.

Worse still, his eyes fixated on the girl, the pained and maddened rage he felt quickly fading from the emerald whites of his eyes, leaving his gaze dull and dead.

His hand darted to his hip, and I saw him draw the dha sword's sheath from the fabric belt at his waist. The wooden scabbard was covered in soot marks from the girl's attack, but symbols carved into the sides began to glow with a blue-white light as the man's mouth moved.

Despite clearly shouting a command, there were no words to accompany his actions. It was as if I were watching a mime act out a spell.

"Féargaoithe! Féarcloí!" Penny shouted again, sending another storm of grass cuttings at the man. But as they spun toward him, a sphere of crackling blue energy enveloped him, arcs of lightning playing across the surface. Puffs of smoke sparked up wherever the grass touched upon the shield, until the last of them were spent.

"Fuck this," I heard Anya mutter, clearly unimpressed by the flora-based attack. I saw her lift one arm, and watched as she opened up with one of her Desert Eagles, the hundred round drum fueling a barrage of fire.

The blue-white energy shield lit up as round after round impacted it, the bullets sparking as they ricocheted away. The man inside shifted the sheath in his grip, and with another silent command, expanded the circumference of his shield.

None of us could stop in time, and the wall of crackling energy flashed out rapidly across that end of the clearing, striking each of us as it went. My jaw clenched and my muscles spasmed helplessly as the electrical energy coursed over me. I hit the ground hard, trembling in the wake of the attack.

As soon as my muscles started responding, I craned my neck around to make sure the man wasn't coming for us. But rather than finishing us off, I saw him sheath his sword, and then head to the boy.

I watched the burned and bare-chested man crouch down beside him, and for a moment I thought he was finishing him. Instead, I saw him slide the boy's swords into their scabbards, and then lift him up. After draping the boy limply over one shoulder, the man broke into a run. I struggled to keep him sight as he moved with impossible speed, a flash of blue-white energy crackling about his legs as he leapt atop a headstone. From there, he pushed off, and I twisted to watch him dart across the graveyard, jumping from stone to stone, until he made an impossible leap over the ring of zombies enclosing the others.

I stumbled to my feet, supporting myself against a headstone. The sound of battle still emanated from around the clearing, and flashes of light sparked up on the far side. Noting one grave marker with a large base several feet off the ground, I staggered toward it and pulled myself up, holding on to the large cross atop it.

From the slightly elevated position, I could see above the mass of undead bodies.

The burned man had rejoined the dark haired man within the ring of the dead, where he dropped the boy to the ground. The dark mage turned to look at the boy, and the glimpse that I caught of his face looked gaunt and pale. He seemed to stare for a moment, as if trying to see something I could not. After a couple seconds, he nodded his head, and the Hound flickered into sight beside him.

I saw the beast move to stand over the boy's limp form, much as it had done with me. Once it was positioned, it dipped its head down to the boy's chest, as if preparing to tear him apart.

But what it did was much worse than that.

After a long heartbeat, I watched as the Hound's head slipped into the boy's chest.

The huge dog didn't consume the boy, so much as it merged with him. I saw the young man's body spasm for a moment, before growing deathly still. The Hound's eyes glowed fiercely as its head rose, and I saw an incredibly bright light clenched between its teeth.

The sight hurt my eyes. Maybe it was the night vision of my glasses, or maybe it was simply exhaustion and fatigue causing my temples to pulse. But when I looked at that sight, it made my head spin.

It felt wrong. As if I were witnessing something that should not be seen; seeing a piece of something that was beyond human comprehension.

And then, just as quickly, the light was gone, swallowed down the throat of the massive beast.

The gaunt faced man turned then, looking to his left, and my eyes followed his gaze. There, I saw Violet standing just outside the ring of zombies, her torch held aloft. A whip of amethyst fire struck out from atop the lantern, lashing toward a man I didn't recognize. The fire was impossibly fast, but the target dove aside, barely avoiding a strike that at best would have cut him in two, and at worst would have left left him smothered in flames.

The whip of living flame coiled around, preparing to strike again, but it froze as Violet's body tensed. Her head turned back toward the gaunt man, and then her body mirrored it. The flames of the torch recoiled as Violet strode toward the undead. The mass of bodies parted for her, and then she was in the inner circle with the others.

The gaunt man looked about, a calculating set to his eyes as he looked over the graveyard, and the small army of the dead that he had raised. His eyes locked on mine for a moment, and I felt a chill ripple through me.

After a moment, the gaunt man turned back to Violet. His lips moved, and Violet's arm lifted, holding her torch higher.

And then, as dawn broke over the mountain to the east, the ring of the walking dead, and everyone within, disappeared in a flicker of light.