Death's Servant

The next five minutes shake the very foundation of my sanity. At each occupied bedroom we encounter, Dria has me usher the victimized Were out the door and down the hall, while the previously feasting vampire sits utterly still. Once the Were passes, she closes the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and stands in the hall while the wet splatter of the addicted vampire's head explodes in the room beyond.



It would all seem surreal and out of a movie if I wasn't smelling the gore and seeing the blood on the red stained walls when a door happens to swing open. By the third one the gorge in my stomach tries to force its way up my throat. I can't do this. I can't sit by and watch this mindless killing.



Dria's cooler hand rests on my arm as we travel toward the last room in the hall. "Steady, Jon. You can do this. Only one more to handle."



"Don't you mean 'slaughter'?" I try and pull my arm out of her grasp, but she holds firm. "For God's sake, you're not even giving them a chance to fight."



She leans in, her voice whispering near my ear. "Like they did to the wolves, Jon? These vampires captured their minds and held them captive while they raped and used them for their own twisted needs." Her breath tickles my neck and I shudder, torn between loathing and vengeance. "Revenge is never pretty and often leaves you empty. Focus on the lives we're saving and you'll get through this."



A quiet calmness fills me, but my soul screams. It seems wrong to kill anyone without a fight.



Dria releases my arm and stares into my eyes. "It is-in a perfect world. But ours is far from perfect. Remember what they told you happened to the daughter of the alphas?" I nod. "Save your mercy for children like her and do the hard task that needs to be done in her honor."



She's right, I know. But I never signed up for heartless, cold-blooded slaughter. I never dreamed her plan would include the quick execution of everyone responsible.



What did you think would happen? That the vampires would all promise not to abuse Weres again and everyone would be magically set free?



My own naivete chokes me. Good God, what an idiot I am. I shake my head, trying to clear the bloody images from my mind. Worry creeps in when I realize who we haven't freed from these upstairs rooms. "We haven't come across Raine, yet."



The vampire's face takes on a faraway look. "Does she have short dark brown hair, skinny as a rail, and soulful blue eyes?"



In my mind's eye I think of the young Were, the woman who was able to resist Cecil's compulsion thanks to a spark between us, the dimple near her upturned mouth and the twinkle in her eyes. "Yeah, that sounds a little like Raine."



"Well then, you'll get your wish." She motions down the hall. "I'm pretty sure she's on the other side of the last door on the right."



"How do you know that?"



She moves stealthily down the carpet toward the last room. "That's a story for another day, wolfman."



Dria eases to one side of the door. Her green eyes seek out mine as her body tenses. "It's not going well in there. We need to get in there quick-it may already be too late."



Without another word from the vamped-out killer, she kicks open the door. The second man who attacked me last week, Thomas, lies naked on his side, his body wrapped around the unmoving form of Raine.



Another rush of adrenaline floods my body, promising a wicked crash when the danger is finally past. Fire surges through me with the desire to rip and tear the leech limb from limb. Raine's eyes are closed and her pale skin almost glows in the half-light of the bedroom.



"You're too late," Thomas calls from the bed. "I heard your... exterminating techniques a few minutes ago and knew my fate was sealed."



Dria steps into the room, her eyes locked on the vamp with the bloody mouth and not the ripped out throat of Raine on the bed. My God, we might be too late. The urge to rush forward and save her compels me forward, but the strong arm of the redheaded vampire bars my passage.



"Why kill her?" Dria asks. "She did nothing to you."



He ignores her and asks a question of his own, "I felt you in my mind, didn't I? I've never felt the presence of another vampire in my awareness. You were hard to miss."



My senses strain toward the girl on the bed. Is she truly gone or can we save her? I try and listen for her heart beat, but can't discern anything over my own pounding pulse.



"Shh..." Dria says, and the man on the bed goes silent. There's a frown on her face when she turns to me. "Jon, check to see if she still lives."



I stride past the redhead, watching Thomas the whole time. Will he leap on me and rip out my throat when I approach?



Once I reach the side of the bed I place two fingers on Raine's wrist, hoping for a response. Nothing. I lean down and rest my head on her chest, hoping, straining for some sign of life. Pain wells and grabs my heart, like it's being crushed in my chest. She's well and truly gone.



Anger and pain over her loss battle inside me. I want nothing more than to rip apart the vampire who did this to her, to feast on his flesh, and gorge on his blackened heart. As the muscles in my shoulders bunch and I prepare to leap, one thought holds me back. I judged Dria just moments ago, and yet I'm ready to do the same damn thing-kill and destroy an enemy who hasn't even lifted a finger toward me. Why is it he hasn't moved? What the hell is she doing to him? Reining in my primal urges for vengeance takes every ounce of will power and strength I gained from eating Cecil's heart.



"Why?" I ask him, my voice harsh with the devastation of losing Raine. "You hear us coming and you still didn't try and flee? You went after her instead."



The vampire stares at me silently, not moving a muscle, not twitching an eye. It's like he's frozen.



"What he has to say doesn't matter, Jon." Dria says. "If she's gone I can't bring her back and nothing he could add would make you feel better-it will probably make you feel worse." A hand lands on my shoulder, the touch light and reassuring. "Would you like to end him or shall I?"



Disgust coils in my gut and bile rises up my throat. I shake my head, afraid to speak and spew the hatred coiling inside me. I pull the limp form of Raine away from him, picking her up in my arms, and cover her nakedness with the bed sheet. Cradling her lifeless form to my chest, I turn and leave, letting my actions answer for me.



Halfway down the hall I hear the door close behind Dria and the distinct splatter I've come to recognize in the last few minutes as the quick and final death of another vampire.



Tears trickle unchecked across my face as I carry the dead woman down the stairs. Could we have saved her if we'd moved faster? Would she have lived if I hadn't trailed her back to the mansion last week? So many conflicting thoughts fight for dominance in my mind as one foot follows another and I painstakingly make my way to the rear of the house, where we told the other Weres to gather.



The weight of her body pulls on me mentally, but not physically. Her arms lay loose, one cradled to her body and the other dangling toward the ground. With each step, the burden of carrying her draws me into a pit of despair.



I failed this woman. I thought I could help, but in the end I was no match against an enemy who outnumbered me and had advantages of strength and experience.



If it wasn't for the more powerful vampire I'd stumbled upon, this whole pack would be dead-if not now than surely later as the years of their torment stretched on.



You did do something. You didn't turn your back on them like Romeo and Elsa. You found someone to help.



Yeah, and at what price? Raine is dead and I'll be serving the deadliest creature I've ever met. What if she gets tired of me? What if I make a wrong move? Could she dispose of me without a backward glance, like she did those vampires in the house? The noise of hushed voices reaches me as I make my way to the backyard.



A blurry glance reveals the rest of the werewolves have gathered outside. Two dirty forms huddle near the ground and several other packmates stand close to them. My guess would be the ones on the ground are the chained and drained alphas from this unlucky pack. At my slow approach, a few Weres turn in my direction.



"Raine!" The young wolf from the house, Tara, rushes to my side. "Is she...?"



The crushing weight of my failure shoves me to my knees, clasping the body of the slight werewolf to my chest as I descend. "I tried, Tara... I really tried."



"No!" she shouts, tears cascading down her face. She reaches to take her packmate's limp body from my arms, the sobs wracking her shoulders don't hinder her supernatural strength to support a woman her size. I release my hold on Raine's remains. My back bows and my head sags.



All this, for... what?



Was it worth it? You sell your soul to the devil and your potential mate lies dead?



Dria lays a hand on my shoulder. Her touch eases some of the despair coating my thoughts. "I'm no angel, that's true." I turn my head and stare into her glittering green eyes. "But I'm sure as hell not a soul-collecting devil, either."



My mouth opens to refute the betraying thoughts she read, but she pats my shoulder, stopping me. "It's okay, Jon. You're allowed to feel pain and grieve. If you didn't, I'd be worried about you-and the type of alpha you'd make without compassion." Her hand grips the fabric of my shirt and she gives a gentle tug. "Get up." I stoically rise to my feet, wanting nothing more than the ground to open and swallow me over Raine's loss-and my horrible failure at letting her die.



Dria's next words whip a light of fire through me. "We're not done yet. Wipe your tears and let's get moving. There's more to do, whether you're ready for it or not."