Apotheosis, p.32
Apotheosis, page 32
Ana stood up straight then went perfectly still as she let the emotions of sadness and loss and hatred and rage course through her mind, letting none of it touch her face. After a moment, Janek reached out a hand, placing it on Ana’s shoulder to offer some scant comfort. It seemed a pointless gesture, and Ana gave no sign that it even registered with her. Suddenly, the air was split by roaring rumbles – the sound of explosions in the distance. The Ardisi assault team had arrived at Podmaine Monastery.
Ana snapped out of her reverie. “Let’s go to the monastery via the road. If the L-ATV or any other vehicles come back the other way, we can give that information to Luka once we arrive. Otherwise, we will join the assault.” She looked at Janek, her face bleak as death. “I am going to eat Katalin Székely’s heart.”
Janek nodded and picked up Marianna’s body in a fireman’s carry. Without any further word, they began running toward Budva.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hatred and Rage
Ana and Janek arrived at the monastery just as the Ardisi squads began pushing past the first line of buildings, expertly dashing forward in zig-zag patterns to take up protected positions behind concrete walls and laying down covering fire. Screams filled the air as large-calibre bullets ripped giant holes in Karpati bodies. Dark mounds of crumpled bodies dotted the galleries and walkways within a few minutes of the assault starting, and shattered glass tinkled to the ground all around as windows were shot out. Masonry exploded into dust as the defenders returned fire. A handful of Ardisi were killed or wounded, but the defenders were pushed back, and the assault team moved forward toward the buildings with coordinated movements. Three Ardisi BMC Kirpi-2 troop transport vehicles were parked in the small field beside the building complex, pockmarked by black soot – a testament to RPG strikes that their hardened armour had withstood. The field also contained a variety of Karpati vehicles: some light trucks, some civilian 4x4s and one Oshkosh L-ATV. Luka and Miroslav disembarked from one of the Kirpi-2 vehicles now that the immediate vicinity had been cleared of hostile forces. Miroslav’s two Sleepwatch Guards emerged next, followed by three of Tamar’s Sleepwatch Guards, and then Tamar herself disembarked. To Janek’s eyes, she looked somewhat wan and weak, although he knew that not many vampires would possess the instincts to notice it. Clearly the digestion of Zoltan Karpati was taking its toll on her.
Luka turned to face them as Ana and Janek approached. His eyes went to the body that rested on Janek’s shoulders, then turned compassionately toward Ana. “We will bury Marianna properly tomorrow. Tonight, we murder the last dregs of the Karpati,” he said, his voice soft.
Ana nodded, and Janek placed Marianna’s body inside one of the Ardisi vehicles. As he closed the door, a familiar face appeared out of the brightening gloom.
“If you are looking for Katalin Székely, I watched her head into Budva shortly after arriving in the L-ATV,” Tomaz announced. He had been tasked with watching the road north-west toward Podgorica, but apparently he had managed to infiltrate far closer to the monastery than any sane person would have dared if he had managed to identify individuals.
Ana looked meaningfully at Luka, clearly pleading for permission to find and kill Katalin. Luka nodded his assent. “Go,” he ordered, and Ana and Tomaz loped off into the failing darkness. Next, he looked at Janek. “Come,” he said, and the group headed toward the monastery.
Ana stared daggers at the woman in front of her. Katalin Székely smiled back viciously. It had taken Ana and Tomaz more than an hour to find her, slowly quartering the town and then searching building by building where Katalin’s scent was strong. She stood in a half-destroyed tower overlooking the sea; it was of mediaeval origin and had been restored as a bed-and-breakfast tourist retreat before the Upheaval. It was a beautiful building and its current state of decay only added to its rustic appeal. The blue-green vista below was simply breath-taking; it would be a nice place for Katalin to die, Ana decided.
“Hello, little kitten,” Katalin greeted her with faux warmth, standing on shaky legs. Her eyes were shining with power and energy, but clearly she was affected by the weakness of digestion, on top of the weakness from the sunlight that streamed into the tower. Right now, she was as vulnerable as she had ever been, despite pretending to be as ebullient and as dangerous as a viper. Ana’s fangs dripped with anticipatory saliva.
“Marianna was even more delicious than her dainty lover Namira!” Katalin taunted. “My god, you do know how to choose the most wonderful snacks for me!”
Ana looked into Katalin’s eyes and smiled, clamping down on the triggers of her two Morieli pistols, making two carmine chrysanthemums bloom in Katalin’s torso before dropping her guns, which hit the floor tiles with a metallic clank. The Karpati coughed red mist and started to collapse, but Ana caught her as she fell, claws in her hair and gripping her chin, stretching Katalin’s neck out for her fangs. Katalin’s eyes widened with disbelief as Ana buried her fangs in her neck, and Ana could not help but smile as Katalin mewed once like a frightened little animal before death claimed her. Tomaz entered the room as Ana sucked the last of the blood from her nemesis of centuries; he would stand guard while Ana succumbed to the seizures and madness of initial digestion, and then – once Ana had recovered sufficiently – they would return to the monastery to re-join their blood–brothers and sisters.
The sun was high above the horizon by the time the assault force had managed to clear all the dormitory buildings and surrounding outbuildings, as well as sweep the surrounding countryside clear of snipers and soldiers with RPG-7s. The fighting had lasted for more than three hours and was only now beginning to wane. Scores of Karpati lay dead; most of them were not Warriors and had limited training as soldiers, but the Karpati strain was known to have strong mutations for The Crimson Mist, even in non-Warriors. This, combined with the fact that several squads of experienced soldiers had been gathered here by Julianna, meant that House Karpati had managed to put up a very strong resistance. Most of the Ardisi soldiers had been killed in the fighting. Within the monastery, only the sanctuary tower had not yet been breached – a powerful aura of violence and rage emanated from within, and none of the Ardisi soldiers had dared to enter. With all other Karpati taken care of, the most powerful Ardisi vampires strode into the centre of the courtyard: five Sleepwatch Guards, Luka, Miroslav and Tamar Ardisi. Janek waited nearby, his rifle pointed up at the windows of the sanctuary tower, ready to shoot at the first hint of movement.
Tamar spoke, her silver voice calmly mocking. “Julianna, my dear cousin. Will you not come to greet your visitor?”
Silence was the only response for several long seconds, then the door slowly opened. “You are not my cousin,” a voice hissed in reply, then bullets filled the air and the courtyard erupted with activity. The Ardisi scrambled toward cover, returning fire, and dim shadows zipped from the sanctuary toward the dormitory buildings as Julianna and four Karpati Sleepwatch Guards emerged and joined battle. The sunlight was sapping the strength of everyone, but it clearly affected the most powerful vampires far less than it affected the others.
All was chaos and violence, and amongst it all Janek felt a strong pull toward the monastery’s sanctuary tower, rather than the dormitories that had again become the epicentre of conflict. He briefly wondered if fear was behind his urge, but after analysing his emotions and finding no fear – only focus – he discarded it. What reason had he, then, to search the tower, when Julianna and her guards were elsewhere? he asked himself. The answer coalesced whole and perfect in his mind as if from mist: Mira Szabo. She waited in the tower for Julianna’s victorious return, and Janek’s fangs were drawn to her neck the way a magnet was drawn to iron. Without further thought, he lay down his rifle and drew his silenced Glock 19 pistol before dashing toward the sanctuary door and slipping silently inside. It was cool and blessedly dark in the tower, with no light able to reach through its stone walls. Janek felt his speed and reactions return closer to normal as soon as he was out of the horrible sunlight; but no matter how fast his reactions were, Mira was ready and waiting for him. His eyes found her just as her whip sang violently and its tip wound around his wrist – cutting deeply into his flesh, slicing through the tendons and cartilage. She was a gorgeous woman, lithe yet voluptuous, with beautiful, pale skin, wavy red hair and eyes like polished emeralds. She wore high-heeled black leather boots and semi-sheer black nylon stockings topped with black lace, which caressed her perfect thighs. She wore fingerless opera gloves of pure black silk, and a black-and-red corset embraced her tiny waist and ample breasts. Her fingernails glittered viciously: she wore steel nails, each as sharp as a razorblade. Her black lace underwear glistened wetly, testament to Mira’s excitement and arousal due to the violence and brutality of the Ardisi assault. Mira was an extremely dangerous woman, with strong mutations for The Coercion and The Reason Of Madness in her vampiric strain. Vampires with those mutations were colloquially known as Touches by other vampires – but Mira was definitely not a soft Touch, even though she had no primary mutation toward The Crimson Mist. She was famous throughout the clans as being an exceptional torturer, and she had been Julianna’s personal dominatrix for five centuries.
Janek’s pistol dropped from his momentarily limp, unresponsive hand. Mira smiled a vicious smirk as it hit the ground with a muted clunk, then she brandished a long knife in her left hand. Janek snarled and instinctively gripped the leather of the lash that bound and cut into his wrist. Some small voice inside him screamed that she would not want to release the handle of the whip in her right hand – that she subconsciously wanted to maintain control – but in doing so, she was unwittingly giving him a tool of control. Suddenly, there was no time for conscious thought, only instinctive action; to think was to die. Janek’s body flowed of its own accord, twisting and diving, avoiding knife and claws and fangs and then delivering damage with the Ka-Bar knife he found in his undamaged hand. Mira hissed in pain as Janek’s cold, sharp steel punctured her side: centuries of holding the whip meant that she was used to inflicting pain, not receiving it. That single moment of shock was enough for Janek to capitalise on; without further thought, Janek violently wrenched his arm back and to the side, yanking on the whip that encircled his wrist, tugging Mira off-balance as she subconsciously gripped it tightly in response. Janek leapt toward her, ignoring her knife as she stabbed him with it awkwardly and off-balance, missing any of his vital organs and slicing a shallow groove down his side. His left hand found her hair, wrenching her head up and out, exposing her elegant neck. He bit down harshly, fangs puncturing perfect skin, and then his mouth was filled with a gush of delicious, hot blood. He sucked deeply as she whimpered, his momentum carrying them both to the ground. She struggled weakly for a few more moments as he feasted on her, before all life left her eyes as the last of her blood left her body, feeding him.
As when he had feasted on Erhard von Manstein, Janek immediately went into seizure as his body was assaulted by Mira’s virus: her strong Manipulator mutations sang a vicious harmony to his own, and his body was immediately plunged into excruciating digestive shock. He contorted on the ground, unable to breathe, unable to scream, in complete agony. The sound of gunshots outside the tower hammered through his skull like actual bullets, and the pain from the cut in his side was amplified a thousand times. He became excruciatingly aware of particles of sand abrading his skin and bruises on his shoulders and knees, as every sensation of pain was magnified into horrible suffering. His vision collapsed and then burst into a thousand colours and unidentifiable shapes. He flopped around on the ground like a broken puppet, trying to breathe, trying to stay conscious, trying to survive. Darkness closed in.
Ana leaned on Tomaz as they stumbled into the monastery complex. The sound of someone being viciously kicked – an explosion of breath and the snapping of ribs – greeted them, followed by the sound of a body sliding across stones.
A mocking voice rose from somewhere out of sight. “Pitiful Miroslav,” Julianna spat. “You should have accepted my offer all those centuries ago. You and Ketevan would have been my most honoured slaves; instead, you are a miserable, unappreciated failure, forced to live your days looking like a rotting cadaver.”
Ana and Tomaz hurried forward and turned a corner to find Luka’s body right in front of them. Ana dropped down heavily, turning Luka over, fearing the worst. She was relieved to see that he was alive, although unconscious; his body sucked oxygen in with bubbling, laboured breaths, his ribcage shattered by Julianna’s powerful kick from moments ago. She looked up to the main courtyard ahead of them, from whence Luka had been violently ejected. A small group of figures stood there. Ana’s eyes focused and she was able to make out the individuals: Lady Tamar stood facing Julianna, who had broken both of Miroslav’s arms and then pinned him to the ground with one foot, breaking his spine. Around them, all their Sleepwatch Guards were dead; some of the bodies had ceased moving only seconds ago, judging from the way that fresh blood still pooled around them. The moment of final confrontation was at hand, and only Miroslav’s final breaths stood between his beloved mistress and her death.
Miroslav somehow smiled through his pain. “Stupid bitch,” he giggled. “I look how Lady Tamar wishes me to look, which means I look exactly how I wish to look.”
Julianna’s response was to take her foot off his back and lift him with one hand until he dangled in front of her mouth. She continued to stare at Tamar as she bit deeply into Miroslav’s neck, sucking the lifeblood from his arteries even as Tamar watched helplessly. The handful of moments was enough time for Ana and Tomaz to draw their weapons, aim and fire from their vantage point out of Julianna’s immediate sight. Bullets streaked across the intervening distance, impacting Julianna’s beautiful body – even as she twisted and dodged with inhuman speed to avoid being mortally wounded, despite having been caught by surprise – and then the Karpati ruler ran, injured, away from the courtyard, toward the darkness of her sanctuary tower.
Complete madness had seized Janek – for how long, he could not say – but then slowly it receded, as violent waves recede from the shore after a storm, and he was able to sit up. Mira’s blood covered Janek’s chin and chest, congealed thick and black. His breathing was ragged as he tried to stand. It took three attempts before he made it to his feet – and came face to face with Julianna Karpati: bleeding and bruised, with bullet wounds in her shoulder and her hip, but still the most fear-worthy entity on the planet. Abject terror crashed through Janek’s body, weakening his knees and sending him crashing back to the hard stone floor. Death was in the tower with Janek… but she wasn’t looking at him.
Mira Szabo had been Julianna’s lover and punisher for five centuries, and for some interminable moment Julianna seemed to Janek like nothing more than a lost kitten, her yearning eyes locked on the body of her beloved torturer, someone as dear to her as her own husband had been. The moment seemed to last for a century, then Tamar was suddenly there, striking her nemesis viciously, smiling a triumphant smile as Julianna flopped to the floor, unconscious.
Tamar didn’t hesitate, jumping on top of Julianna and put her in a rear naked chokehold, limiting the blood flow to her brain, ensuring she remained unconscious. Once firmly sure of her dominance, she hissed at Janek without ever looking at him: “Get the restraints from the Kirpi!”
“Yes, my lady,” he stammered, struggling to stand once more, desperate to obey.
Ana and Tomaz entered the tower, weapons drawn. Seeing that the situation was under control, Ana immediately fled outside without a word, while Tomaz offered Janek a steadying arm to support him, nodding in response when Janek managed to say “Kirpi.”
Together they hobbled outside, and Janek saw that Ana had dragged the twitching almost-corpse of a Karpati Sleepwatch Guard over to where Luka lay and torn its throat, guiding a trickle of congealing blood into Luka’s mouth. Ignoring her ministrations, they stumbled out of the main courtyard and turned toward the field beyond the outbuildings, where the Kirpi-2 troop transport vehicles were parked. After making their way to the vehicle in which Tamar had arrived, they found within it a heavy steel cage and a complex set of restraints: manacles and chains made of titanium, and thick Kevlar ropes. Gathering what they could carry, they headed back toward the sanctuary tower. On the way, they passed Ana carrying Luka toward the Kirpi-2 – Janek noticed that he was badly injured but looked like he would recover, given enough rest – and she was fast enough that she caught up with Janek and Tomaz before they once more reached the darkness that held Tamar and Julianna.
“Bind her,” Tamar hissed victoriously, never loosening her chokehold. Ana and Tomaz complied, while Janek – still feeble with weakness from the initial digestion – collapsed to the floor after placing the Kevlar ropes he carried next to Julianna’s feet. Within a few minutes, Julianna had been trussed up so that any movement was impossible: a chunk of wood was tied into her mouth like a bridle gag to stop her from using her fangs, her ankles bound to her thighs, knees bound together, elbows bound together behind her back, wrists manacled to bound ankles, then wrapped with ropes tight enough to cut circulation. Only then did Tamar release the chokehold around Julianna’s throat. The Karpati Ancient regained consciousness just as she was being placed into the steel cage in the back of the Kirpi-2; she screamed around the wooden block in her mouth at the realisation that she had been captured, and continued to scream as Tamar kicked her viciously four times, breaking Julianna’s legs and arms. Chains were used to shackle her suspended in the middle of the cage, then Tamar locked the cage and settled down – next to a sleeping Luka – to keep guard of her new prisoner. Ana ordered Tomaz to drive one of the other Kirpi-2 trucks and Janek to drive the Oshkosh L-ATV, while she herself would drive the main Kirpi-2. Military hardware such as these trucks were extremely scarce, and all efforts to return them to Narikala must be taken. Janek nodded and dragged himself out into the direct sunlight once more. Weakness flooded through him, but eventually he managed to open the door of the military vehicle and climb in behind the wheel. All the trucks rumbled to life as their engines were turned on, and after a few moments the small convoy was headed east. Every jolting movement of the truck must have caused Julianna’s broken bones to grind together; Janek heard her scream for the entire duration of the journey to Narikala Fortress.
