Delilah
The synchronized clomp of boots sent my pulse racing. I lurched around the corner of the dormitory building and dropped into the shadows just as an entire squad of armed handlers jogged around the corner from the building that housed cryptids destined for the hunt.
“What the hell happened?” the man in the lead demanded into his radio. “The stable was standing wide-open. Perkins nearly got trampled by three centaurs and a satyr.”
“The collars are disengaged,” the staticky voice over the radio shouted. “Repeat—the collars are disengaged. Approach with caution and shoot to kill. Lethal force is authorized. Don’t take any chances out there, guys.”
“Fuck that.” One of the men stopped jogging, and the others came to a haphazard halt around him. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
The handler in the lead grabbed his man by the edge of his puffy protective vest. “The hell you didn’t. What did you think the hazard pay was for? Now, shut up and keep your eyes open.”
“Do you hear that?” Another handler turned toward the rumble of several engines echoing across the quiet compound. “Backup’s on the way. I think she called in the fucking marines.”
When I realized he was staring toward the parking lot, I gave a silent cheer. Even if Tabitha Vandekamp had called in the marines, that wasn’t what we were hearing.
“The engines are heading away,” one of the other men said. “That’s not backup. It’s deserters!”
Actually, it was the very creatures they’d been sent out to kill, currently stealing their cars in order to escape.
“Let’s go!” the leader shouted, and his men fell back into two lines. When they’d passed me, I stood and peeked around the corner of the building, wishing I’d kept one of the electric batons for myself as I watched the men jog toward the next building.
Shivering in the fall air, I crept behind them into the next unlit patch of grass.
“Stop right where you are!” one of the men shouted, and I went still, terrified for a second that I’d been caught. But the men were all aiming their rifles in the opposite direction—at a satyr and a nymph, frozen in the beam of someone’s flashlight.
Gunfire rang into the night, and I gasped as the defenseless cryptids were shot where they stood. Then the squad of handlers moved on with their mission, heading east across the compound, while I stood shaking in the shadows.
It took at least a minute for me to regain control of my trembling legs and press on, avoiding even a glance at the bodies of my fellow captives as I passed them.
I was a good fifteen feet from the infirmary entrance, still hidden by shadows, when a great, angry screech split the night. The thunder of heavy hooves shook the ground beneath me, and I froze again, my heart pounding.
Human screams rang out from the east, then several were suddenly silenced.
The stampede got louder by the second until a manticore rounded the corner of the arena, its scorpion tail arching ten feet in the air, spiky lion’s mane blowing in the late night breeze. A black-clad human arm was speared on the beast’s stinger, still dripping blood in an arcing pattern as it swayed over the creature’s back.
I backed up until my spine hit the wall of the infirmary, as deep into the shadows as I could get, and I could only watch as beast after beast followed the lion-scorpion hybrid toward the courtyard and the topiary garden.
Three giants and an ogre alternately swapped blows as they fled the arena, and when the ogre got in too good of a punch, one of the giants uprooted a small tree from near the dormitory and swatted him with it.
The ogre flew backward and smashed into the side of the infirmary, on the other side of the entrance. Glass shattered and bricks crumbled down around him, but he was up in a second, brushing chunks of stone from his head and shoulders as he jumped back into the fray.
From near the end of the stampede, a phoenix tried to take flight, holding the corpse of a handler in its claws, but only made it ten feet into the air before its clipped wings brought it crashing to the ground again. It landed on a large lizard of some kind, which opened its mouth as if to screech, but breathed fire instead, singeing the poor bird in a weak imitation of the damage the phoenix would do to itself, at the end of its molting cycle.
From the other direction, voices shouted. Another small squad of handlers rounded the corner of one of the buildings, guns drawn, and began firing. The beasts charged, a bizarre parade of hooves, wings and huge feet. The cacophony was deafening.
As I stared, huddled in the shadows, I heard a familiar voice shouting from the cluster of handlers and recognized Bowman’s profile, lit by a fixture mounted on the corner of the infirmary’s roof. He lifted his rifle and charged into the fray, firing at the manticore.
I clamped one hand over my own mouth to hold back a scream of warning when I saw a terrifying silhouette rise out of the darkness behind him. With a great grunt, the giant swung the tree he’d uprooted.
The tangle of limbs struck Bowman in the chest with a sickening crack of bone and the splintering of wood. His padded body flew into the side of the dormitory fifty feet away, then crumpled to the ground.
Crisp leaves rained all around, ripped free by the force of the blow. I ran for the infirmary entrance, desperate to both escape the slaughter and to avoid seeing any more of it.
The door closed behind me and I leaned against it in the darkened foyer, my eyes closed, panting from my sprint after weeks of inadequate exercise. Between the noise from outside and the pounding of my heart in my ears, I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were almost upon me.
“Freeze, freak! Get down on the ground!”
I opened my eyes to find three handlers standing on the other end of the infirmary foyer, aiming automatic rifles at me in what light poured from the open manager’s office. The rest of the building was dark and quiet. Had Gallagher already evacuated it?
“Really?” I said, trying to slow my pulse. “Have you been outside? I’m the least of your problems right now.”
“On the floor, facedown!” the one on the left shouted. “Hands behind your back! We will shoot!”
I exhaled slowly, steeling my nerve. “The more time you waste with me, the less time you have to get away from what’s happening out there.”
From the courtyard, a man screamed, but the sound ended in a wet gurgle.
The handlers glanced at one another. Two of them were visibly sweating, and the third’s gun shook in his grip.
“You can shoot me and hope the sound doesn’t draw attention from the stampede of griffins, giants and manticores outside, or you can sneak quietly out the back door and live to see the—”
“Shoot her.” Tabitha stepped out of the office and stood behind the men aiming guns at me, backlit by light pouring through the open door. She wore a satin robe, but her feet were bare and her hair hung down to her shoulders.
“Tabitha? If you kill me, the baby will—”
“Shoot her.” Mrs. Vandekamp stepped into the light, and I saw that her face was red and streaked with tears. “Her lover killed my husband, and he will know the pain he’s caused.”
Vandekamp was dead. Joyful relief exploded deep inside me like a star at the end of its life, lighting me on fire from the inside out. I caught my breath on the tail of a sob.
“I found my husband in seven pieces, scattered around his office floor. But there wasn’t a single drop of blood. Your lover feasted on the blood he spilled—”
“I’m sure he didn’t feast...”
“—and I want to know if he’ll feed from yours, as well.” Her voice faltered beneath the weight of her grief. “Does he truly care about you, or will his brutish nature prevail?” She laid one hand on the shoulder of the handler closest to her. “Shoot her.”
The handler’s gaze was focused on the wall behind me, through which we could still hear the slaughter going on. “We don’t want to draw their attention until the system’s up and running again.”
“The system is destroyed,” Tabitha snapped. “All of Willem’s hard work—years and years of research and design—gone.”
“Destroyed?” The handler on the left frowned, and his aim began to falter. “Then how are we supposed to...?”
“I’ve called in the National Guard.” She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of her robe and blotted at her eyes. “They’re going to set up a perimeter and bomb the entire compound.”
“Fuck!” the handler on the right whispered. “I’m outta here.”
“No!” Tabitha shouted, when all three lowered their aim and turned toward the rear of the building. “Shoot her first! Then you can take my car!”
They brushed past her without even a glance at me over their shoulders.
“Wait!” Tabitha chased after them.
I headed in the opposite direction, toward Claudio’s room, as fast as I could go in the dark hallway. The rooms were all empty; anyone who could walk had already fled, because even when they were locked, the infirmary doors could still be opened from the inside. But Claudio couldn’t move well under his own power.
His room was empty. Two cuffs still hung from the bedposts, and his sheet was on the floor. Pagano’s pale arm stuck out from under the bed.
“You did this.”
Startled, I turned to find Woodrow, the gamekeeper, standing in the doorway, blocking my way into the hall. He had a pistol aimed at my chest.
Deep in my belly, the furiae stirred. She wanted him. Lost in the trove of information I’d stolen from myself there must have been a memory of Woodrow doing something very, very bad.
“Vandekamp started this,” I said. “Gallagher and I are finishing it. And we’re getting plenty of help, in case you haven’t noticed.” I tilted my head as another monstrous screech echoed from outside.
My fingertips began to itch and I resisted the urge to reach for him. If he saw my beast emerging, he would shoot.
“Where is he?” Woodrow demanded, and suddenly I understood.
“You want Gallagher? Are you suicidal?”
“Thanks to you, I’m unemployed. But there’s a lab out west offering a cool million for the only redcap ever captured. Vandekamp turned it down, but he’s not in charge anymore.”
I indulged a bitter laugh. “You better hope you never find Gallagher. You’re on his list.” But he was on the furaie’s list now too.
“Even the mighty fear dearg can’t stop a bullet.” Woodrow tossed me a set of handcuffs. “Put those on.”
I bent to pick up the handcuffs, to keep him from seeing my eyes, as my vision became suddenly sharp and clear, even in the dark.
When my wrists were bound in front of me and my hair was just beginning to lift from my shoulders, Woodrow reached forward and grabbed my arm in his gloved hand. “Gallagher’s the puppet and you’re the string. Let’s go make the big guy dance.”
As he tugged me toward the door, I twisted and grabbed his forearm with both my hands.
Woodrow froze as rage poured from me into him. His arm fell to his side and the pistol clattered to the floor.
“Look beneath the flesh...” the furiae murmured through my lips. “See what really matters.”
I let Woodrow go, and as my vision returned to normal, my hair still settling around my shoulders, the gamekeeper pulled a knife from his belt and made a long cut down the back of his left forearm. Then he began to peel back his own skin.
Horrified, I pushed past him into the hall, trying not to hear the soft patter of blood as each droplet hit the tile. “Claudio!” I called, as I ran toward the back of the building. “Claudio, where...?”
“She won’t wake up.”
I whirled toward the voice to find the werewolf standing in the hall behind me, holding his daughter’s limp body in both arms.
“She won’t wake up, and I can’t carry her.” Beneath Genevieve’s thin, dangling arms and matted hair, blood had soaked through her father’s bandage. He’d reopened his stitches.
“Oh no.” She’d been fine an hour earlier, asleep in her hospital bed. And now she was...
Her chest rose.
“Let me see her.” I jogged down the hall and felt Genni’s forehead. Her skin was cool, but not cold. Her breathing was smooth and regular.
I pulled back her eyelids and her eyes dilated. “She’s sedated. She must have fought the doctor. She’ll wake up soon and be fine, but we have to get you both out of here. Give her to me.”
But then I shook my head and took a step back. “Wait, I’m not supposed to lift anything.” Among the things I remembered from the CVS procedure was the doctor telling Tabitha not to let me strain. “I’ll find a wheelchair.”
Yet as I turned to head for the supply room, heavy footsteps clomped toward us from around the corner. The walls shook with each one.
One of the beasts had gotten into the infirmary.
“Shit!” I whispered. “Go back the other way.”
“Wait!” Claudio cried, as I tried to tug him along. “I can’t—”
The footsteps stomped closer, and a shadow fell onto the tiles at the end of the hall. My heart leapt into my throat and I stepped in front of Claudio, shielding him and Genni out of instinct, before I realized I was actually putting my baby in harm’s way.
The beast stepped around the corner, and I nearly fainted with relief. “Eryx!”
The minotaur couldn’t speak, nor could he smile with his bull’s mouth, but his outstretched arms spoke volumes.
“Give Genni to him!” I stepped out of the way so the werewolf could get by.
As the minotaur relieved Claudio of his daughter’s limp weight, Rommily stepped around the corner, her long dark hair hanging half in her face, her eyes wide and completely, opaquely white.
“The cradle will fall,” she said, and a chill traveled down my spine. But I didn’t have time to worry about what that might mean.
“Okay, go! Find a car big enough for Eryx. Look for a van. Claudio, can you drive?” The werewolf nodded, and I wrapped my arm around him for support as we headed for the back door. “Has anyone seen Gal—”
Sound exploded from the other end of the hall, and I stumbled backward as pain stabbed at my left side. Rommily screamed.
I pressed my hand to my side, trying to find the source of the pain, and my fingers came away warm and wet. And red.
Stunned, I looked up to see Tabitha aiming a pistol from the other end of the hallway. “Now he’ll know,” she mumbled. “Now you’ll all know.”
“Go!” I shouted, but my voice carried little volume. I couldn’t draw a deep breath. Each beat of my heart somehow hurt deep inside. But they didn’t go. “Claudio, get them out of here.”
I fell against the wall, and my hand left a bloody print.
Tabitha lifted the gun again, as I fell to my knees. “Run!” I tried to shout. Then the world lost focus.