Nightfall (Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition) (7 page)

Take grimaced. “Show me.”

The three Winds followed Marjorie to a bank of security monitors where the other members of the quad were waiting. Joseph slipped a DVD into the player, and they all watched as the base was attacked, an explosion ripping through the walls of the concrete bunker. The first vampires through the breach were instantly immolated by the Fire Sentinel’s lances of white-hot flame. Meanwhile, the Air Sentinel flung any sharp weapons he could grab telekinetically into the enemy’s ranks, using his limited magic to light consecrated flames on the missiles. The projectiles stuck to the vampires’ bodies like napalm, stopping the Nightwalkers from regenerating.

The first rank of Nightwalkers went down quickly; the second attacked using automatic weapons. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the green telekinetic shields each of the Sentinels projected, and the energy released from their impact was absorbed to strengthen the shields.

Then the vampires darted aside. An Asian Nightwalker strode forward and pointed his sword at each Sentinel in turn. The green shields of force around each Sentinel flared white and disappeared, and the defenders went down in a hail of gunfire.

“Jesus,” said Take. “How much power does it take to burn out a kinetic shield?”

“A lot,” Ana said grimly. “That’s why no one uses modern firearms in the field. The vampires just regenerate from the damage, and we can shrug off the bullets. They should have won. They would have, if this new vamp hadn’t been there.”

Marjorie’s tone was bitter as she added, “The second and third team recovered the security footage and saw what they were up against. They made their stand together, casting a composite ward over the base to prevent chemical combustion and to neutralize the vamps’ ammunition and explosives. That battle was more conventional in nature.”

One of her team queued up the second recording. This time, when the walls came down, the Sentinels were ready. The Air and Fire Sentinels attacked immediately from range while the Earth and Water Sentinels waded into combat at close quarters. The fight was more evenly matched this time, but again the newcomer focused his attacks on the two Earth Sentinels who were directing the defenders’ efforts. He engaged them both at once, his sword a blur as he struck at each of them in turn.

“Clever,” Take grudgingly admitted. “They’re linked to their teams but not to each other, so he’s manipulating them to make them interfere with each other’s tactics.”

“I agree,” said Marjorie. “He’s a master swordsman. A regular Earth Sentinel would have no chance against him without linked assistance to coordinate attacks.”

Take watched as the first of the team leaders was dispatched, followed by the other. Then the battle became a slaughter, the attackers inundating the remaining Sentinels.

“Turn it off,” Rory said in disgust. He looked at Take. “Whether or not this guy is Jiao-long, we can’t take him out one on one.”

“Agreed. We need to eliminate him, and I see only one way to do that.” Take turned to Marjorie. “To even have a chance of bringing him down, we need a linked team. I need your quad to keep the rest of them off our backs while we engage the leader.”

“You wish to take the field yourself?” Helena, the Air Sentinel, asked suspiciously.

Takeshi scowled at her. “It’s not my first hunt, despite what you may have heard. Rory and Ana have been acting as my sparring partners for years. They both have enough skill at physical combat to hold their own and support me while bringing their own Gifts to the table. We have the best chance at taking him out if you can keep us from being overwhelmed.”

“We should get Antonio down here, as well,” said Ana. “He may not be one of the Winds anymore, but his Gift is as strong as mine, and he’s more experienced than any of us.”

Thomas grinned wolfishly. “I like this plan better and better. Now, how do we find the leader?”

“We won’t have to,” said Rory. “We leak the location of this base to one of their proxies and let them come to us.”

Joseph laughed, and his eyes changed from blue to gold with slitted pupils. “This is going to be fun. If any of us are alive afterward, drinks are on me.”

CHAPTER 6

Liang watched from behind a shroud of invisibility as his forces attacked the base. The explosives on the wall failed, just as they had at the second base. This team must have had access to information about the first two assaults and had adopted similar tactics, blocking combustion.
No matter.
He hardened the air into a battering ram then slammed it repeatedly against the wall until it collapsed inward. His forces poured into the base through the breach to meet … nothing?

Odd,
he thought. Casting his mind outward, he found several minds waiting patiently in a large room in the center of the base, surrounded by a jumper block to prevent teleportation.

Curious.
Sentinels relied heavily on their programmed instincts in combat. They were seldom able to adapt successfully to new challenges, relying on the strategic subroutines within their own Gifts to respond to new threats, particularly if inexperienced. Those subroutines generally did not allow them the freedom to walk away from combat or fight defensively.

Nightwalkers had exploited that weakness for millennia. Only the Earth and Air Sentinels had any sense of strategy, and the Air Sentinels were limited to tactical simulations. He had been told the Earth Sentinel who led this team was quite experienced, so it was conceivable she had crafted some surprise for him. He shrugged.
There is no sense in waiting.
“They are in the central room. Kill them all,” he instructed the strike leader beside him.

The strike leader bowed. “Your will, Master.”

The rest of the Nightwalkers entered the building cautiously, fanning out as they moved deeper toward the central chamber. Liang followed, still hidden behind his shroud of refracted light. The strike leader reached the doors to the conference room first. As he touched the door handle, Liang suddenly felt the ward against combustion fail. Instantly, he snapped his strongest shields around himself and as many of the assault force as he could reach.

The entire building exploded around him. Liang shook his head against the ringing in his ears and the screams of the rest of the assault force. The weaker ones were consumed in fire; any survivors were crushed by the rubble of the upper floors collapsing on top of them. Meanwhile, Liang stood untouched within a cocoon of power, along with fewer than thirty of the attacking vampires. He raged at his own foolishness. Then, controlling himself finally, he melted a corridor through the rubble back toward the central room and propped up the tunnel with telekinetic shields. The other survivors followed him, their own shields protecting them from the heat of the molten debris on all sides. Finally, he cut through the last layer of rubble separating him from the untouched inner room and blew the doors inward, destroying the telekinetic shield that had held them closed when the explosives hidden throughout the building erupted.

He strode forward to find eight Sentinels standing calmly in a semi-circle in the center of the room, waiting for him. The remainder of the Nightwalker forces spread out behind Liang, awaiting his signal to attack.

The Asian Sentinel in the center pointed his katana at Liang. “Who are you?”

Liang laughed. “Do the Children of Twilight have such short memories? I am Liang Primogenitor Jiao-long.” He smiled. “An inventive trap. I applaud you for your ingenuity. What name shall I whisper over your grave, Sentinel?”

“Primogenitor,” the Sentinel said in disgust. “I had hoped for Jiao-long himself, but I guess I’ll have to settle for second-in-command.” He drew himself up. “I am Takeshi Nakamura, the Wind of Earth.”

Liang continued to smile, covering his surprise at the revelation. He looked pointedly at each of the Sentinels before him, fixing their features in his awareness. Then he reached out to his Master over their blood-magic link and sent him the full memory of the battle so far.
“Father, our enemy has shown himself.”

Jiao-long’s acerbic voice commanded over the bloodline,
“Kill the Wind of Earth if you can. If you fail, then I will avenge you, my son. Fight well.”

Without another word, Liang silently ordered his remaining forces to attack. As the vampires leapt forward to strike, Antonio and Thomas launched bolts of white fire to immediately pick them off, one by one, from behind their shields. Helena teleported around the room, clutching two knives sheathed in flames and dealing punishment to any vampires able to raise shields strong enough to block the Fire Sentinels’ attacks. Joseph shifted form, becoming some kind of tentacled horror that hurt to look at but was strong and versatile. He ensnared and immobilized vampires four at a time, allowing Marjorie to kill them with ease.

Meanwhile, Liang launched himself directly at Takeshi, who blocked Liang’s strike with his katana and returned his stroke. Simultaneously, Rory leapt sideways and slashed horizontally with his cutlass, in perfect synchrony with Ana, who lashed out with her staff trailing orange fire. To avoid their coordinated, three-pronged attack, Liang had no choice but to retreat and fight defensively. He knew the combat skills the Gift imparted to the Wind of Earth were superior to anything any Nightwalker could command. He had only minutes to gain an advantage against Takeshi until his own forces were dispatched and the other Sentinels could come to Takeshi’s aid. If he did not win this battle quickly, he would almost certainly die here.

Rory struck high, aiming for Liang’s throat. The Sentinel’s blade was sheathed in holy fire, and it sliced through Liang’s shield and grazed his neck as he twisted to the side. Knowing that Ana would use the opportunity to strike at his exposed flank, Liang steeled himself but still felt the shock of her staff burning through his shield and then punching into his side, where it seared a trail deep into his flesh. He staggered forward involuntarily, raising his sword to block Takeshi’s stroke, which aimed to take his head off.

Takeshi struck for his head but simultaneously pulled a wakizashi sword from his belt to nick the inside of the Nightwalker’s exposed wrist. The spellworked steel of the short sword slashed the tendons of Liang’s sword arm, its charmed edge preventing the Nightwalker from regenerating the damage. Liang watched helplessly as his blade tumbled to the floor. He had only seconds left. Sweeping his arms in a wide circle, he forced the Winds to dodge his talons and used the brief respite to gather his power. With the accumulated strength of three thousand years in the dark, he cast one final spell.

All of his energy exploded in a single burst of ferocious light, consuming him utterly. The room was obliterated and the rubble of the building reduced to dust and ash in an instant. Nothing remained to mark the building’s presence but a perfectly spherical, molten-glass-lined crater extending deep into the earth.

* * *

Shaking off the disorientation of the teleport matrix, Takeshi glanced around the hotel room and then at Rory and Ana—both mirrored his shock. “What happened?”

“Radiant Burn,” Antonio said from behind them.

Rory faced him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a spell that allows the caster to convert his body into energy,” Ana explained. “It takes a huge amount of power to cast, so only a master spellcaster can even try. Jesus.” She looked around the room. “We should be dead.”

Takeshi glanced around the hotel room. “How did we get away?”

“When I cast the jumper block over the base, I added a subroutine that would trigger an automatic jump back to safe coordinates if a Radiant Burn was initiated,” Antonio said, drawing himself up. “Your predecessor died that way in Alexandria, along with the other Winds of my generation. I decided I would not be caught unaware again, so I routinely add that spell to any jumper block I cast.”

Takeshi stepped closer, balling his fists. “Antonio,” he growled, “where are the others?”

Antonio sagged with sudden exhaustion. “After you three opened your eyes, I added you to the spell. It was just habit, Takeshi. I never even noticed I cast the spell or I would have added them to the parameters. I swear it.”

“You left them there to die?” Rory whispered.

“I told you, Sentinel, there is little room in our lives for fairness.”

April 2020; House Jiao-long Stronghold, Grand Mesa, Colorado

Jiao-long Firstborn put down his brush and studied the eight portraits he had painted. The four Sentinels from the Denver quad he dismissed. Antonio, he knew from Alexandria. He focused his attention on the last three portraits: Rory, Ana, and Take.

Turning to one of his Consuls, who was standing at attention, he pointed to the latter paintings. “The one in the center is named Takeshi Nakamura. Find him and the other two, if they still live. Learn everything there is to know about them.”

The Consul bowed. “Your will, Father.”

Jiao-long reached out along the bloodline to the remaining vampires of his house.
“My Children, we have lost much, but there will be a reckoning. Come to me, all of you, and together we will craft our vengeance.”