Chapter 85: Memories and Instincts...

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man," Mitchell grumbled, "didja ever hear such a fucking wailing mess in your goddamn life?"

"I cannot say that I have, no," Talon scowled. He stood near the foot of the table, while Mitchell was near its head. Alex still lay there, restrained and wracked with tears. "At least he has started to quiet down."

"Finally," Mitchell said. The old gunslinger spat on Alex, who didn't even notice. "Shit, this kid's all of what, nineteen? Twenty at the most? The fuck's he got to cry so hard about?"

"The potion that the warlock gave him enhances his memory, and the succubus forced him to drink far more than the warlock intended," Talon shrugged. "Perhaps his life has been more difficult than we have suspected."

"Oh, that's bullshit," grunted the other vampire. "This kid grew up a healthy white boy in an American city with cell phones and flush toilets. He still lives with his momma. He don't know what 'difficult' even is." Mitchell spat again, then turned around looking for something else to hold his attention. He found it directly back from the table. "This bitch here doesn't know how good she's had it, either," he said, moving closer to the other captive in the room.

"We are ordered to leave her be," Talon reminded him coolly.

"I ain't gonna touch her," Mitchell said. "Know better'n that. You weren't there when we caught her. Didn't see what she did to a couple of our people. Did he, sweetness?"

It was then Mitchell's turn to be spat upon. Though chained so low on the floor that she couldn't rise to her full height, the brunette in denim and flannel stayed in a low, ready crouch as Mitchell reached reflexively for the old but well-maintained revolver in his gun belt. "Fucking cunt," the vampire growled.

She growled back. The woman's growl was considerably more feral.

"You are so lucky Talon's here to keep you alive," Mitchell snarled at her. "Otherwise I'd cut you loose from those chains just to have an excuse to shoot your sorry ass."

"I would end you, corpse," the woman sneered back.

Mitchell's gun was in his hand in the blink of an eye, pointed directly at her forehead. "Put it away, fool," Talon sighed.

The gunslinger's eyes narrowed. He raised it threateningly at the woman one more time, but then holstered it. "Not in the condition you're in now, you wouldn't, bitch," he grumbled.

There was a knock at the heavy door before it was unlocked from the outside. Talon and Mitchell looked up to see Warren return, along with Jack and the suited vampire's ever-present tommygun. "I see the prisoner's reactions have lessened somewhat," Warren observed.

"Yeah, he stopped screamin' about two minutes ago," Mitchell shrugged. "Little less sobbing now, too. Might even be able to talk."

Warren cocked his head curiously. "Can you hear me, Alexander?" he asked. "Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Where is Lorelei?" Alex rasped.

"With her rightful owner," Warren told him simply.

"No," Alex coughed, shaking his head. "Can't own people."

Talon sighed again, looking at Mitchell. "You are right about one thing," the vampire said. "This is a very soft country in a very soft age."

"I will need to work a bit here," Warren informed the other vampires.

"The Lady has conceded to this?" Talon asked with a raised eyebrow. He looked directly to Jack, as if to note the complete irrelevance of anything Warren might have to say on the subject.

"She wants us to watch," Jack shrugged. "Anything hinky or out of place goes on, Warren here becomes a very unhappy customer."

"Understood," Talon nodded, turning his attention back to the robed man.

"This is only preliminary," Warren explained, "which is why the Lady agreed. The potion still needs time to take effect, but with the dosage he received, I must monitor his condition." His hands disappeared into his robes. When they reappeared, one was held tightly closed, while the other opened to reveal a handful of ash. Warren held it high and blew the ashes out over the room, taking care to turn fully counter-clockwise as he sent it all into the air.

Warren murmured words of magic so softly and quickly that Talon could barely make them out as Latin. What he heard alarmed him, but as he reached for his sword he found it was already too late.

No one else in the room saw it coming, for no one else knew Latin.

"You will all defend me this night, as well as yourselves," Warren informed them calmly. "Your allegiance this night is to me and to the Brotherhood. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Warren," the vampires said, each bowing to him as deeply as they ever bowed to Lady Anastacia.

"Yes, sir," Warren corrected.

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Jack, please go outside and get a vehicle ready. Something that will hold yourself, Carlisle and I. Talon as well. I'd hate to leave behind such a luminary of his kind." Jack bowed again and headed out.

Warren waited a long, pensive moment before he spoke again. "Mitchell, Talon, we are going to lead Carlisle here out. You will escort me to the vehicle that Jack will retrieve, and you will use your authority as agents of Lady Anastacia to ease our departure. I will keep Carlisle concealed through my magic. We will leave under the pretext of illness on my part. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," they both said.

"Do you think Carlisle will be any trouble?"

"No, sir," Talon answered. "He has already had a solid beating tonight already. The table here is not a restful spot to lie. We will have to carry him."

"My thoughts exactly." Warren pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. He waited at least a full minute. "Lady Anastacia's court should have convened upstairs already. By now the hallways will be somewhat deserted. I would wait, but I suspect court may deteriorate rapidly. Gentlemen, please unfasten Carlisle's bonds. Oh, and Mitchell? I do not want any witnesses. Please eliminate the other prisoner before we go."

Mitchell nodded, even grinning. "You had best close the door, then, sir," the gunslinger suggested. He was already pulling off the latches on Alex's wrists. "This room muffles sound pretty well, but if the door's open, someone might still hear the shots."

"Thank you, Mitchell," Warren smiled grimly. He moved to do just that, sliding the door shut without allowing the locks to catch. Mitchell turned to the woman in the corner, pulling his revolver and walking forward with a grin. As he did so, Talon unlatched the final cuff on Alex's legs. He pulled the young man into an upright sitting position by the collar of his shirt. Talon then let Alex go to see if he would stay sitting up. The young man swayed, but didn't fall.

"Yes," Talon confirmed, glancing over his shoulder to Warren. "He'll have to be carried."

Alex saw the opportunity and didn't think twice about it. In fact, he didn't even think at all; he just moved. Alex snatched the gladius from Talon's belt, drawing it in a quick, familiar movement with his right hand while grabbing Talon's right wrist with his left. Talon had just enough time to snap his head back and see Alex swing the short sword down with everything he had. The blow landed at exactly the right spot. It went clean through Talon's arm at the elbow. One instant, Talon felt Alex grabbing at his wrist; in the next, there was an explosion of pain, and then he simply didn't have a wrist there anymore.

Talon roared. He swatted at Alex with his left arm but Alex rolled with it, came up quickly and slashed deeply through Talon's throat. He swung again, back in the other direction, with enough precision and torque to go clean through the rest of Talon's neck.

Mitchell's head turned around to see what the hell the noise was. With his attention diverted, the woman chained at his feet had just enough slack in her bonds to reach him. Her teeth clamped down on Mitchell's wrist. The gunslinger shrieked as he was pulled back.

Warren saw it all unfold at once. His eyes went wide in horror, but he was too slow and too surprised to react effectively. Even as Talon's head was falling from his shoulders, Alex drew his sword-arm back and then flung the gladius straight into Warren's neck. It landed with a sickening sound; blood began to spurt from Warren's wound even as he clutched at it and sank to the floor. As he fell back, thrashing for support, he pushed the door the rest of the way shut.

Talon's body, already crumbling, fell forward onto the table. Alex turned it over to reach for the pistol in the underarm holster that he had spotted earlier. By the time Mitchell had wrenched himself free of the captive woman, Alex was already twisting around with the .45 in his hands.

In any other circumstance, Mitchell would have been the much faster draw. As it happened, though, he took two bullets in the chest before he even fired one. Mitchell staggered back into the reach of the woman behind him again, who tugged at his duster and brought him down to the ground. His hand was already crumbling to ash. The six-shooter fell from it with a clatter.

Alex scrambled off the table, his eyes still red from weeping with the tracks of his tears still visible on his face. His crushing sorrow was shoved aside for the moment, though, as he quickly moved to Mitchell's rapidly crumbling body. To the contrary of Talon's assessment, he wasn't tired at all; not after a succubus had teased his body for so long, leaving him electrified – unwelcome though it may have been

– and certainly not while someone he loved was in such danger. He fought to get the gun belt off of it. "You must free me, Carlisle," the woman growled.

"Lady, everything I've seen here tonight is something horrible and fucked up, and I don't even know who you are," Alex told her. His callousness surprised him, but then he suddenly felt surprised at being surprised. Since when was he so naïve? "For all I know you're something even worse than these guys."

"The enemy of your enemy is your friend," she said.

"Wow, you didn't pay a lot of attention in American history class, did you?" Alex grunted. "That line's the biggest crock of shit in the world, right there." He threw the gun belt around his waist. It was a little high for his taste, so he fought to adjust it.

"I am a hostage here of the vampires. Would you leave me here to die?"

Of course he couldn't do that. Could he? "How do I know you aren't one of them?"

"I aided you. They have me chained here. What more do you need to know?"

"You aided yourself," Alex said. He picked up the revolver and checked the load. "What's with these bullets? I thought vampires were supposed to be bulletproof."

"They have no need for their internal organs," the woman explained, "but they are vulnerable to certain elements. The tips of the bullets are made with a mixture of silver and...other things. A vampire's greatest enemy is typically another vampire. Why would they carry weapons that would not harm their own kind?"

Alex stopped and looked at the woman. She might have been pretty, but for the complete lack of a shower or a toothbrush or a comb for who knew how long.

"Your Rachel is not dead," the woman said. "The blonde woman lied to you."

"How do you know?" he gasped.

"She wears human flesh. I know not what she is, but she is not entirely human... yet that is a human form. The body betrays itself with certain clues when one lies. My senses are sharp. Carlisle, please," the woman implored him, holding up her chained wrists.

Alex looked at her, thinking for a moment. His own compassionate nature fought with memories of a dozen harsh lessons from situations like this, all of them from memories he didn't have before tonight and weren't even sure were really his. It was all a jumble. Finally he pulled the latches on her manacles. As they fell away, he noticed gleaming silver strips inside them.

"You are no ordinary college student," the woman said.

"Yeah, actually, I am."

"When did you learn to fight like that?"

Alex blinked. He hadn't really paused to process it. "A long time ago, I guess," he murmured to himself. Tears began to well up in his eyes, but he blinked them away. There wasn't time for that. He had to hold it together. Alex pushed away his cacophony of memories of Halla and Katherine and those terrible last moments in the bush that threatened to pull him down into despair again.

The woman reached up to grab his shoulder. "I am Diana, daughter of Caleb," she told him with a fierce pride. "My people are the eternal enemies of the vampires."

"Um. That's great. I'm Alex."

Diana nodded. She took his hand at the wrist, like a warrior. "Gather their weapons. I am ready."

Alex blinked, but did as she suggested. He went over to Talon's dusty remains to grab his pistol harness and the sheath for his gladius, and then quickly pulled the bloody blade from Warren. It only took a moment. Alex checked the weapons with a quickness and familiarity that surprised him. Yet it was only then, looking at the blood on the blade and the dead body at his feet, that it really hit him. He had just killed a man. Three, if one were to count the vampires...but regardless of their states of life or unlife, he had clearly just killed Warren. He couldn't sort out if this was something he'd never done before or if it was nothing new at all.

"The door," Diana said plainly.

Alex tried it. "Locked," he grunted.

"I know. Move," she said. Alex looked over to her and found that she had removed practically all her clothes. Then she lurched forward, literally expanding and growing a prodigious amount of body hair with each quick step. It all quickly became fur. Her head lengthened into a snout, her hands turned into terrible furry claws, and she growled with an animal fury that sent Alex scrambling back away from the door.

Her claws plunged into the metal door. She dug into it, pulling with great strength and forcing an ear- splitting sound from the door that made it almost sound like it was screaming as she wrenched it from its reinforced hinges. The wolf-monster that had been Diana fell backward even as she tore the door out of Alex's way.

He glanced down the hallway. Jack was there, rushing back from the hallway with his Thompson out. The vampire in the pin-striped suit looked on in alarm, raising his weapon to fire. Alex had his six- shooter out in a flash, fanning the hammer and putting three of his six bullets into Jack's guts. The vampire got off a burst, but only a short one. It went wild, ricocheting off of the concrete walls of the hallway. Jack crumpled to the ground.

Alex glanced down at Diana, who was now entirely human and entirely naked on the floor. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'll manage," she grunted. Alex offered his hand, which she took as she picked herself up off of the concrete. "This building is still warded. We won't be able to get out without breaching the ward somehow."

"I don't know what that means," Alex said.

"I'll explain," Diana shrugged. She looked at him intently. "Get me out of here and I will make you my mate for life."

"Woah! Um. I'm good," Alex said, his eyes going wide and his hands spread out before him in a big "stop" motion. "I've got that covered. I'm totally good. Just gonna go rescue my girlfriend from some vampires and demons upstairs and I'm all good."

"You cannot," Diana shook her head. "There are far too many, even for a warrior such as yourself. I am too weak to make any real difference. You must let her go."

"Think I'd rather go down fighting, then," Alex frowned sourly. "Feels like that won't really be anything new for me. Maybe it's why I've been so fucking emo all my life. Anyway, grab your clothes if you want 'em. I'm moving on up ahead."

He left her in the basement dungeon, moving warily down the hall toward the pin-striped suit and old Thompson sub-machinegun amid the pile of dust that was Jack. He picked up the Thompson, checked its magazine for ammunition, and then found several other magazines in the inside pockets of Jack's suits.

"It's like every one of these assholes is carrying around all my favorite stuff," Alex murmured.