A human versus a shifter was usually a one-way ticket to a body bag, but thankfully, I’d come prepared. As the beast lunged for me, I unholstered my pistol and emptied it, sending six enchanted silver bullets at the bastard. Three took him in the face, the others in the chest and shoulders.
At least one must have done the job. His growling ceased as he fell with an earth-shaking thud inches beside me, and rapidly shifted back to his human form. I averted my eyes from the ruin of his face and scrambled to my feet. Cries sounded from inside the mausoleum. More were coming.
Backing toward my shotgun, I pulled bullets from my pockets to reload.
“Come on!” I bellowed. “Come for me if you’re fucking coming.”
From the dark entryway, a host of creatures and beings emerged. The first I saw was that fucking werewolf Sloan had mentioned. The fucker must have had some enchantment to allow him to transform without the full moon, because he was a full, walking nightmare of snapping jaws and taloned fingers as he rushed me.
I scooped up the shotgun and fired shot after shot. My mind went to a dark place, deep in the bowels of my soul where fear had no foothold. All I felt was rage and anger.
When I finally came back to myself, I was inside the mausoleum, a pile of dead bodies behind me. Glancing down at my body, I blinked in surprise. I was covered in blood. It looked like someone had tossed a bucket of red paint on me.
My success was short-lived as I hurried down the stone stairs, only to be met with three rushing vampires, eyes wild with hungry need. The first slammed into me, driving me back. I lifted the shotgun, pushing with both hands to keep his snapping jaws from my throat. The next two crashed into us, sending all of us hurtling to the ground.
As I fell, I pulled the shotgun trigger on instinct, and one vampire’s head vanished in a spray of red. Hitting the ground, I grunted in pain, and my gun went skidding away in the snow. The other two vampires hissed and fought to get at my neck. One tried to slice me open with long nails, but the strike glanced off due to the enhanced protection charms on my clothes.
Pushing my hand under the chin of one, I struggled to kick the other back while dragging out my other knife. My fingers slipped on the hilt twice before I finally got a good grip on it. I yanked it free and drove it into the jaw of the vampire I held, the blade piercing through the upper palate and into its brain. The silver and spells saturating the blade killed it as good as any wooden stake would have, and it evaporated to dust like his friend a moment before.
The final assailant dived at me, and I had only enough time to reach up and grab his wrists before he was on me, thrashing and biting. Spittle flew from his mouth as he hissed. My pistol and shotgun both lay too far away for me to grab. The only weapon I could think of was the one in my ankle holster.
Taking the chance, I released the monster’s arm and reached for the gun. The vampire took the opening and clawed at my face, tearing four shallow and bloody furrows in my cheek. I yanked my gun free and emptied it into the thing’s chest. He cried out in surprise and fell forward, becoming a cascade of dust and ash before it even touched me. Coughing, I batted away the debris.I slipped the small gun back into the holster at my ankle while trying to catch my breath.
Clawing my way to my feet, I grabbed my pistol, picked up the knife, and checked the shotgun. The big weapon was empty, but I still had a few bullets for the pistols. Leaving the shotgun on the ground, I shoved the knife back into the sheath and moved on, holding my gun out and ready. Sweat and blood soaked my shirt as I stumbled down the hall. All along it, I could see the stone squares with chiseled names and dates. Generations of the Tacitus family going back two and a half centuries.
“Veronica!” I bellowed.
I stood, resting with my hand on the wall to steady myself. In the distance, faint but audible, I heard shouting and screaming. Feminine voices. Energy surged through me as I sprinted toward the sound.
At the end of the corridor, I found a single door. I kicked at it, but the wood didn’t budge. I tried once more and nothing. Pulling my gun free, I fired at the lock twice, the enchanted bullets enough to break the spell that kept the door from opening. The door shimmered, then it swung open.
Stumbling inside, I looked to the left and nearly hit my knees. Veronica sat on a bed beside a young girl. Our eyes locked, and she smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“I knew you’d come for me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
“You bet your ass I did,” I said, running to her.
I wrapped her in a tight hug. She squeezed me back just as hard, sobbing into my chest as I stroked her hair.
“I’m here,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”
“Is he your friend?” Wendy said.
“He is,” Veronica said, finally releasing me.
Wendy looked me up and down, taking in the blood, cuts, and bruises.
“Wow,” she said, eyes wide. “Heisa badass.”
“We need to go,” I said. “I don’t think I handled them all. Virgil will probably be bringing reinforcements. Hurry.”
They’d both been tied to the bed with ropes at their ankles. There were collars around their necks, and Veronica had two additional rope and metal bands on her wrists. Together, we got the ropes untied, then I went to work on the bands. I had to use the charmed silver knife, first cutting through the strange rope bindings at Veronica’s wrists and then using the tip to break the lock on the metal throat collar. Once Veronica was freed, I went to work on Wendy’s collar.
“Got it,” I said, as the binding clicked and fell away.
“I think you’ve gotten all you’re going to get.”
I froze, jaw slowly tightening. Glancing over, I saw the look of horrified realization on Wendy and Veronica’s faces as they looked toward the door. I turned, holding my hands up. Virgil Tacitus stood at the door, flanked by three witches with multiple colors of glowing magical energy shimmering in their hands. Two shifters stood behind them—a lithe, black panther and a growling gray wolf.
