Act Three Chapter Fifteen - Carmina Burana: O Fortuna

Dimitrius moved briskly into Regulus’ lab. The elder mage was gathering up as much material from his magical research as he could: papers, books, diagrams, computer disks, and anything else he thought he could easily transport.

“The traps didn’t stop them.” said Regulus without waiting for Dimitrius’ report.

“Many are dead, but many still survive.” said the butler. “They are proving most resourceful.”

“Those traps and spells should have killed the lot of them. They’re mages and mortals. Nothing more.”

“Not exactly.”

“Excuse me?”

“They appear to have werewolves and vampires among their number, sir. And a group of very resourceful paramilitary commandos.”

“Sleepers?” queried Regulus in disbelief.

“Hunters.”

“Damn Zao.” Swore Regulus. “He’s hitting us with a damned army.”

“Don’t act so surprised. Did you really think he’d come after us alone?” said Emmanuel entering the room.

“Where is the helicopter?” barked Regulus.

“En route. Presuming these hunters allow it to pass. They’ve got the Philadelphia police to close off the roads. No doubt they’ll be able to track its approach and departure.”

“Government hunters.” growled Regulus. “That may work to our benefit here. Let them have the mortals. The Raven Society can take the fall and we can go back underground until the ritual.”

“The battle’s not over yet, brother. They’ve yet to face the Brotherhood.”

“I don’t want to risk open battle with the ritual only months away. Even our sanctum is expendable.”

“I don’t think we have a choice anymore. You need not fear. I’ve made all the proper preparations. Time to see what our little cadre of infernalists can do.”

---

Zao emerged from the stairwell and scanned about. There was no sign of the other intruders; he and his mages were alone.

“They’ve separated us.” said Mosely nervously.

“Perhaps the others are dead.” mused Reginald Skelmsdale.

“No, I can sense them, Reg. They live.” said another mage, tapping his temple. “Although not all of them.”

“Fell prey to traps like Sabrina.” said Zao. “Can you sense the Brotherhood, Mr. Miller?”

Miller concentrated. “Vaguely. The spatial nature of this place is askew. They’ve taken full advantage of its sanctum nature. We’re on the same floor as our allies, and yet not. Our enemies may be here with us and yet elsewhere.”

“A fucking maze of mirrors.” said Mosely.

“Reality is what you make it, as you well know.” said Zao, unperturbed. “In a place like this, it is malleable as putty.” He paused to assess his companions. “That works in our favor as well. Don’t forget it.”

Zao moved onward into what appeared to be a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

“Smells good.” mused Skelmsdale.

“Only if you don’t know what it is. That’s not a beef roast in the middle.” Zao pointed out. Skelmsdale looked closer and saw the half-carved torso of a human male in the center of the table.

“Cannibals. They’re fucking cannibals.” said Mosely. She glared hard at Zao. “You knew this. All along, you knew what they were doing here.”

“Of course I did.” said Zao defensively. “They were my apprentices before they fell to evil. I know a lot more. All manner of depravity takes place under the Brotherhood’s watch. If you knew what I know of what they’re capable of, your blood would freeze in your veins.”

“That’s no excuse. You permitted this for decades.”

“Enough!” barked Zao loudly. “They are the stronger and always have been. You all think me a coward, but it was for your sake that I stayed my hand against this madness. We lacked the strength to stop it. Attacking before would have been suicide and then where would we be? No light of knowledge and virtue at all in this city for the Awakened. All mages would be fodder for the Brotherhood.

“My fate is sealed. By coming here, I have doomed myself. But once you are leader of our people, Gretchen, you must think beyond yourself. Evil is always about. If the Brotherhood dies tonight with me, then something else will emerge in the future. You can bet on that.”

---

Alex McCoid swept the hallway with his flashlight. No sign of movement. “Clear.” He called out and moved forward. His team moved up behind him, followed by Solomon and Julia.

“Not sure how we ended up with two of them.” mused Mariah Kingsley.

“I don’t mind. A little extra muscle is probably a good thing.” said Alex. He moved to the pair of double doors and pulled them open.

The room was a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

“This stuff must cost a fortune.” whistled Julia in disbelief.

“It does.” said a voice.

Flame Santiago and two other mages stepped forward from the back of the room. Alex opened fire with his L85, but Flame raised his hand and the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off some invisible barrier. “Nice try, hunter.”

Flame raised his other hand and a bolt of kinetic energy hurled out of it. It slammed Alex in the chest and flung him against the back wall. Mikail let out a loud cry and opened fire with his rifle. Again the bullets glanced off and one of Flame’s companions stepped forward. The woman mage launched into a high kick that hurled her across the room and right into the big Russian; no normal human could jump that far like that.

“Guns are useless. Get close!” said Solomon, taking command of the situation. He rushed forward with vampiric speed towards Flame, but the mage proved just as swift. He deftly dodged Solomon’s charge and then parried the swings of his fists.

Solomon quickly grew frustrated as he tried to land a blow. He felt slow, sluggish, and he suspected the veteran mage was draining his blows of their energy. Flame parried each strike and then landed a powerful strike to Solomon’s midsection. The big Gangrel went tumbling backwards.

“You’re not the first vampire I’ve fought. And you won’t be the last.” boasted Flame, drawing his sword.

Mikail came to his feet and cut loose with several strikes, remembering well his Sambo training in the Russian military. The woman mage parried his blows; she was clearly a trained martial artist in her own right. But the fight was far less one sided than the battle between Solomon and Flame, so she gave ground before the former Spetsnaz soldier.

Mariah rushed over to Alex and pulled him to his feet. He was winded but mostly uninjured. “Thank God for ballistic vests.” He panted. “That was like taking a sledgehammer to the chest.”

“We’re not done, hunters.” said the third Brotherhood mage, stepping forward confidently in challenge.

Alex snatched his combat knife from its scabbard, but it caught awkwardly on the lip of its sheath and rattled to the floor.

“Oooh, bad luck that.” mocked the mage.

Mariah rushed him, her own knife in hand. But the mage moved like lightning, as if time itself moved faster around him. As she lunged, she found her foe behind her. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, striking downward with his own dagger.

His maneuver might have worked if he hadn’t forgotten Alex. The big soldier tackled him to the ground before his blow could land. The dagger narrowly missed Mariah’s exposed neck and the three of them tumbled into a pile on the floor.

Solomon came back up, his hands forming vicious werewolf-like claws. Flame twirled his blade confidently, his focus entirely on the big Gangrel.

“Forgot about me, motherfucker.” said Julia, coming up beside Flame in a flash and cold cocking him. The mage assassin staggered and Solomon saw his chance.

“Together!” declared Julia as she lunged in as well.

Mikail exchanged blows with his foe. The woman mage was clearly very well trained in animal kung fu. He’d seen elements of mantis, tiger, and even monkey styles. She was fast and a lot smaller than him, but she was using her magic to amplify the power of her blows. Each strike hit like a freight train and only Mikail’s immense size and stamina had kept him in the fight.

She cut a tiger strike across his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. But Mikail saw an opening and he lunged on top of her. Using his weight he bore her down to the floor and smashed his fist hard into her face. Her nose broken, blood sprayed everywhere. Pinned in place, she could not wiggle out from under him and he pummeled her to death in short order.

“You fucker!” snarled Flame in rage at seeing his comrade die. But an insult was all he could manage as he dodged about the two vampires attacking him. He double-punched Solomon in the midsection again, catapulting the Gangrel across the room yet again. He then moved to charge Mikail. But Julia intercepted him.

“We’re not done.” she said confidently.

“Yes, we are.” said Flame. His eyes flashed red and Julia was enveloped in fire.

---

Michael paused outside a pair of double doors. A sharp pain just shot through his chest for no obvious reason. Rebecca rubbed her chest as well. “I felt it too.” she said.

“Julia’s dead.” said Michael.

“You okay?” said Boar sympathetically.

“You’ve lost yours. Now I’ve lost one of mine.” said Michael grimly. “Let’s keep moving.”

He opened the doors and proceeded inside. The room was a banquet hall. The room was lavishly furnished with gilded antique furniture and statuary. In the center of the room was a large table, filled to the brim with food. Their arrival had apparently interrupted some manner of party.

Cortez held his nose. “That isn’t what I think it is, is it?”

“Human.” said Michael. “Sadly, yes.”

“Male from the looks of it. Not one of your girls.”

“No, they’re right here.” said a voice.

Two spirit monsters emerged from the darkness at the far side of the room. Michael could vaguely make out the physical forms of Phoebe and Linda underneath the grotesque mutations. The speaker, whoever or wherever she was, remained hidden.

“Now what?” asked Rebecca. “We don’t want to kill them.”

“Do we have a choice?” wondered Mitch grimly.

“I certainly hope not.” said the wizard. The spirit monsters rushed forward.

Michael fired his shotgun into Phoebe, but as expected, it did almost nothing. Rebecca catapulted herself off a nearby wall and brought her scimitar down across the rushing Phoebe’s back, but it likewise had little effect. Phoebe grabbed Michael, hoisted him into the air, and slammed him hard against the wall. Michael fired again point blank before Phoebe’s second body slam knocked the gun from his hand.

Linda charged after Cortez, Mitch, and Boar. The two werewolves moved ahead of their mage companion and abandoned any further pretenses about how this fight was going to go. Both morphed into the massive gauru battle wolf-man and rushed Linda.

But the spirit monsters proved just as vicious as they ever had. After pummelling Michael against the wall, Phoebe dropped him and turned her attentions to Rebecca. The agile young woman proved too nimble to be easily caught, giving the beast-that-was-once-Phoebe quite the chase.

Michael pulled himself upright, feeling what seemed to him were dozens of broken bones knitting back together underneath his skin. His regenerative powers had reached their limit and hunger for blood gnawed at his soul. Frenzy lurked on the edge of his mind again.

“We have to break the spell.” said Rebecca, continuing to keep Phoebe busy.

“Where’s the mage?” said Mitch, drawing his gun.

“Guess and get lucky.” said Michael, grunting out a last coherent thought before the Beast took over. He jumped to his feet and rushed towards his friend.

Mitch ignored the onrushing mad vampire and pulled his dice from his pocket. He tossed them into the air, casting his luck spell as he did so. His pistol spoke once, aimed at nothing in particular. The bullet whizzed across the room and found a target.

The wizard became visible and spun around, a flesh wound fresh in her shoulder. The smell of freshly drawn blood from the mage drew the frenzied Michael’s attention away from the uninjured Mitch. Wounded prey was all easier. With a bound, Michael changed directions and pounced on the mage, sinking his fangs deep in their wounded foe’s neck.

The mage gurgled her last and both spirit monsters paused in their tracks. Each one convulsed and screamed in pain as the murder spirits tore free from their physical hosts, no longer anchored to them by the dead mage’s spell.

Cortez had given himself over completely to his wolf and tore at the transforming Linda, intending to finish her off once and for all. Boar, who’d kept his wits, bowled him over before he could land a killing blow. The former alpha of the Fairmount pack did not take the challenge lightly and he roared a counter challenge to the new alpha. But Boar stood his ground, neither attacking nor retreating the enraged wolf. Cortez backed down and shifted back to human form.

Boar did likewise as the two girls came back to themselves. “What happened? Where are we?” said Phoebe through frightened tears.

“We’re here.” said Michael, leaning down. He wiped the blood from his face as he hurriedly realized his gore-soaked appearance was hardly calming.

“Michael!” Phoebe threw her arms around him and sobbed into her terror.

“Count it a blessing they don’t remember much of being possessed.” said Mitch.

“Hell of a shot.” complimented Michael. “I could have killed you.”

“It wasn’t really you and I had the time.” said Mitch confidently.

“Sorry about the challenge.” said Cortez to Boar. “I shouldn’t have let the wolf have that much control.”

“You did what you had to.” said Boar. “I’m just glad you didn’t follow through with the rest of it. I’m not keen on fighting you.”

“Even after I’ve been stabbed a dozen or so times tonight?” joked Cortez.

Michael turned back to Phoebe. “Can you stand? We can’t leave you here.”

Phoebe nodded and Michael helped her up. Cortez did likewise with Linda, who appeared in complete shock. She was nearly catatonic in demeanor.

“Let’s get out of here. Now we’ve fought a mage.” said Michael. “We’re getting closer.”

When the group reached the far side of the banquet room, the floor fell out from under them again. They fell into the darkness and remembered no more.

---

Zao and company moved on beyond the banquet hall and into the hallway beyond. Across the back part of the hotel, they found the elevators again along with a series of smaller parlor rooms. As Zao reached for the doorknob of one, a voice called out from within.

“Is that you, Dimitrius?”

“Hardly.” Zao gave the door a hard shove, expecting it to be held against them. It wasn’t and it flung open to reveal a room full of masked men and women.

“The Raven Society, I presume.”

“Who the hell are you?” said one defiantly. His mask resembled Adolf Hitler.

“Do you enjoy hiding behind the face of one of history’s greatest monsters?” wondered Zao aloud, ignoring the man’s question. He glanced about the room. Each one present was wearing a mask that depicted “one of history’s greatest monsters.” Zao saw Stalin, Ivan the Terrible, Elisabet Bathory, even Lucrezia Borgia, along with others.

“Rich fucks playing games with people’s lives.” snarled Mosely in disgust. “Who are you really?” She reached over to the man next to her and yanked his mask off. Underneath was the face of Penn State assistant coach Jerry Sandusky.

“Rich or famous.” said Zao. “We don’t have time for this.”

“You know what they’re guilty of.” insisted Mosely.

“Pawns.” said Zao. “Sleeper pawns. The real masters of this nightmarish Hellfire Club are elsewhere. Leave them.”

Mosely tossed the mask back to Sandusky and turned on her heel to leave. “Your days of depravity are over.”

“We shall see.” said Sandusky defiantly. “The Brotherhood shall prevail.”

---

Flame looked on with smug satisfaction as the flames burned Julia to dust. He then began a methodical march towards Mikail. The big Russian took up a defensive stance, making ready for his new foe when a deafening beastial roar drew the attention of everyone in the room..

Solomon had picked himself up from where Flame’s kinetic punch had thrown him. As he reoriented himself, his eyes fell on the smoking pile of dust in the center of the room. The ash that had been Julia, the childe of his protege, his ally, his lover. In that moment, Solomon did something he hadn’t done in an age: surrendered to his Beast.

Flame barely had time to register what he was seeing when Solomon was on him. Blinded by rage, Solomon’s attacks were clumsy but brutally powerful. Flame parried two, three, but each impact was like stopping a racing tractor trailer. Flame made to parry a fourth punch, but he was just a fraction of a second too slow and Solomon slammed his fist hard into the right side of Flame’s chest.

This time, it was Flame’s turn to go flying across the room. He landed hard and skidded to a stop. His ally, still battling Alex and Mariah, disengaged to join him and helped him to his feet. Flame wheezed out a breath and gripped his chest. Broken ribs galore.

Solomon didn’t care. He began a menacing methodical advance on the two mages. Flame’s ally stepped forward, his dagger raised threateningly. Solomon did not remotely check his stride and when he was in range, the mage attacked. The blow was a good one, right into his chest, but Solomon didn’t even flinch. He grabbed the mage around the head with both hands and squeezed. Unfortunately for him, the mage lacked the protective wards that allowed Flame to take blows from vampire strength and Solomon crushed his head like a swollen pimple.

“Discretion...” wheezed Flame painfully, beginning the famous quote. Just as Solomon was about to reach him, he vanished into thin air.

---

Michael’s senses returned to him momentarily, or at least most of them. He couldn’t see a thing, nothing at all. But he could feel; he immediately recognized the touch of cold steel against his wrists, binding him in place. He presumed the pressure on his ankles was from similar shackles. He could smell and what he could smell was disgusting, a mix of foul organic chemicals not unlike the industrial plants his father once (and probably still) worked at. And he could hear.

“What wonderful samples for my experiments.” squealed a crotchety old voice; almost the stereotypical sound of a Halloween witch only it was male. “I’ve never had to work on vampires before.”

“Who are you?” asked Michael.

“Not that it matters, but my name is Dimitri Le Roi. The Brotherhood calls me the Experimenter. Tell me, vampire, did you like my little super soldiers?”

“Not particularly.”

“I do see that you managed to free those lovely young ladies. No matter. Soon I’ll have them transformed into something else. Ghouls like the ones downstairs might do nicely.” Le Roi whistled a bit and Michael heard the clinking of glass and other tools as he set about his work.

“You’ll be pleased to know that your allies are doing quite well. Even got Flame to retreat after one battle. That doesn’t happen often. But we’re going to give them a surprise. Imagine their shock when they discover their next foes are the lot of you, transformed into mindless slaves of the Brotherhood. Of course, your souls will have gone screaming into the bosom of Ma’atia’to long before then. May his Power be ever praised.”

Michael heard the wizard move about the room. He could tell the man was opposite him, against a far wall. Michael focused his hearing about the room. He could hear the breathing of the others and could make out his whole group: Rebecca, Mitch, Boar, Cortez, and the two prostitutes. Phoebe was still terrified, as was Mitch. Rebecca was calm and Boar restless.

“You may not like the fact that since this is a trial run for performing these rites and rituals on vampires, I won’t be doing you first, my talkative friend.” said Le Roi to Michael. “I’ll start with one of your friends. Perhaps the Latino or your black friend.” Le Roi chucked to himself. “After all, isn’t that the joke? The black guy dies first?”

He moved next to where Michael could hear Boar was restrained. “Say goodbye to your friend.” said Le Roi.

The next sound was that of a brief scuffle followed by a loud snap. Almost immediately, Michael’s blindness lifted and he could see where he was. The room he was in was about as he imagined it: some manner of laboratory. He and others were bound to metal chairs with steel restraints. Boar was standing in the center of the room in wolfman form, the broken body of a man in a lab coat at his feet.

“How?” asked Michael.

“My restraints came loose while he was talking to you.” Boar answered.

“Nice work, Mitch.” Michael complimented.

“It wasn’t me. I couldn’t conjure up a spell pattern in this room; something was hindering my magic.”

Boar moved to set Michael and Mitch free. From there, they freed the others. Michael looked about for their gear and found it piled in a corner at the far side of the room.

Just as Michael got his trench coat back on and his shotgun in hand, the doors to the room burst open. Michael drew a bead on the first person who entered, but held his fire when he saw Alex McCoid. Zao entered behind him.

“So there you are.” said Alex with satisfaction. “We found the wizards outside in the hallway, so I figured you couldn’t be far away.”

“We had a little run in with the Brotherhood downstairs.”

“I think we all did. Flame was dogging us all the way up the stairs. I think the bastard can teleport. The moment we think we have him, he vanishes.”

“There’s a reason he’s their chief enforcer.” said Zao.

“Where are we?”

“Near the top floor. We’ve cleared nearly the whole building.”

“And yet, no Noble brothers...” said Michael tentatively.

“They are here. All that we’ve encountered thus far was meant to buy them time.”

“Time for what? Escape?”

“Perhaps, but unlikely. More like whatever final battle they intend for us upstairs. A last stand.”

“Let’s not disappoint them.” said Michael, checking chamber on his shotgun. “Upstairs everyone. Let’s finish this.”

---

The top floor of the Hell Hotel was completely open. Two stairways led up to the large chamber from either side. Opposite the stairs, across a marble floor, was a massive statue of some bird-like monstrosity, perhaps a depiction of the “Raven Society’s” true patron, Ma’atia’to. To Michael, well versed as he was in geek lore, it reminded him of a demon of Tzeentch from the Warhammer universe. There was something fitting about that, given Tzeentch was the patron of magic in that fictional universe.

Standing at the foot of the statue were a half dozen or so men and women. At the center were two men who were clearly related, one somewhat more rough hewn and shoddily dressed, the other in a suit and tie. The Noble brothers had made their entrance at last.

Michael assessed the others as well. He spotted Flame and Faulkner in turn, recognizing them from the frat house. Both gave him a cursory nod as he ascended the stairs, noting that they recognized Michael in turn.

Alex drew a bead on Regulus and fired off a three round burst from his L85. The bullets ricocheted off some manner of invisible barrier.

“You really didn’t think it would be that easy, did you, hunter?” asked Regulus, his voice echoing hauntingly throughout the chamber.

“Worth a try.” said Alex, ejecting the mag from the rifle and replacing it.

“Regulus is mine.” said Zao commandingly. “Once he is otherwise engaged, you’ll be free to kill the others.”

“Ah, there you are, old man. Finally found the courage to face us once more.” mocked Emmanuel.

Zao ignored the younger brother and fixed his eyes on Regulus. “Regulus Noble, I challenge you to a duel of sorcery.”

“A one-on-one duel? Why would I accept, old man?”

“Because I bring vampires, wolves, hunters, and the best battle mages of my own Consilum to bear against you. Make this an open fight and we will slaughter you.”

Michael guessed that was a bluff, but a good one. Six mages, including Flame and the Nobles, versus the lot of them. Ignorance of the full capabilities of each other’s species might give Zao’s “army” the edge.

“I could squash the lot of you like a bug.” Regulus raised his hand as if to cast a spell that would make good on that threat.

“No, you face me.” said Zao forcefully. With a wave of his hand, whatever spell had begun to manifest in Regulus’ hand fizzled.

Regulus scowled. “Very well. I’ll slaughter you and then dispense with your foolish allies.” He dropped his arms and white powder dumped out from his sleeves onto the floor. Zao made the same motion and similar white powder poured out onto the floor.

Michael watched as the powder began to scatter about the floor of its own accord, drawing itself into intricate lines and symbols. He recognized them as matching the tattoo on Sarah’s back, that of an arcane circle. With a single moment, the circle was complete.

“Kill them all.” commanded Regulus as a white column of light shot upward from the circle, sealing him and Zao off from the rest of the room.

Michael very briefly evaluated his options. He wanted a piece of Emmanuel, remembering his rape of Sarah all those months ago, but he knew Flame was the bigger threat. Flame had also killed Julia, so he won the debate. Michael drew his Beretta and snapped off two quick rounds at Flame and rushed him. Solomon, equally enraged at Julia’s death, rushed after him, along with Rebecca.

Cortez, Boar, and Mitch rushed Emmanuel, who brought his hand up to his mouth and breathed into it with a dramatic flourish. The spirit mage’s motions summoned forth a fire spirit from the ether and it planted itself between the groups and the mage.

The TFV agents rushed the third enemy mage, the one of the leftmost side of the room. “All the powers of life are mine to command!” he threatened as they drew closer. “Face me, fools!” He cast a spell and his body began to morph and change, not unlike a werewolf might, but he grew much much larger. A massive 12 foot tall dinosaur like monster emerged where the mage had been standing.

Zao’s mages split up, with Skelmsdale moving to counter Emmanuel, Mosely to Flame, and “Scorpion” Miller to the dragon-crocodile-thing wizard. In the back of the room, Faulkner retreated, muttering under his breath and waving his hands methodically.

“He’s maintaining their defensive spells.” Michael mused. He fired off another shot at Faulkner. The novice mage was spending so much of his efforts aiding his allies that he’d failed to ward himself. The bullet tore through his neck and he dropped like a stone.

Flame drew his sword and cut a wide slash towards the floor. The motion proved why he was so named as fire emerged from the cut on the floor, cutting Solomon and Rebecca off and leaving Michael and he alone.

“Let’s see how you do without your support.” said Flame, brandishing his blade before him.

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” said Michael. He tossed the pistol aside and drew out Hiroshi Takagi’s katana from under his coat. He rushed forward, leveling a nasty upward slash at the mage. Flame parried and the battle was joined.

Boar and Cortez both morphed into their war form and tried to rush Emmanuel, but he continued to summon a variety of eldritch horrors from beyond the spirit realms. Most died quickly and returned from whence they came, but some gave the werewolves more trouble. Periodically, Emmanuel would try to cast an energy spell of some sort, but his skill in that was far inferior to Skelmsdale, who countered each one in turn.

Alex’s TFV team had never faced anything like this before. Sure, they’d battled ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of supernatural horror, but this beast was more akin something Tolkien would conjure than Stephen King. It’s massive fists struck like iron, putting Mariah down with a single blow. When Mikail moved to protect her, firing away with his rifle, the beast grabbed him, yanked him into the air, and tore him clean in two.

“Oh, that’s not good.” said Miller. He put his finger to his nose and vanished.

Alex swore, but then Miller appeared on the creature’s back. He wrapped his arms around the beast’s neck and squeezed as hard as he could. Distracted and enraged, the monster swung its huge clawed hands, trying to dislodge him.

Alex moved to Mariah and scooted her unconscious body away with his foot. He took aim with his L85, hoping and waiting for his moment. The beast roared in triumph as it speared Miller on its claw, but that proved its undoing. Alex fired, sending a three-round burst from his assault rifle right into the monster’s exposed mouth. The rounds burst out the back of its head and it pitched forward onto the floor, dead.

Miller tumbled to the side, his abdomen savagely torn by the beast’s claw, his innards spilling out he came to a stop. Alex rushed to his side, but there was no saving the mage. The wound was clearly mortal.

Bright flashes and deafening booms gave the only clue as to whatever was transpiring within the mage circle. Zao and Regulus’ battle was ongoing.

Mariah shook off her malaise as Alex rushed to her side. He helped her to her feet. “What...”

“Mikail down. The mage down. Our opponent down.” Alex rattled off, keeping his feelings about the deaths of his allies out of his voice. “Help the werewolves.”

Michael and Flame exchanged blows. The mage was an expert swordsman, at least as good if not better than Michael. But Michael had the vampire’s strength, regeneration, and tireless stamina on his side and Flame’s wards and spells were beginning to fade. Killing Faulkner had given Michael the edge.

And he knew it too. He struck again and again, and while Flame was parrying his blows, Michael could tell he was growing weaker. The fire barrier between Michael and his allies was fading and soon Mosley, Solomon, and Rebecca would join him.

“You can’t win, Flame.” taunted Michael. He knew it to be true. “It’s over!”

“Is it?”

At that, the column of light vanished. On opposite sides of the mage circle stood Regulus and Zao. Regulus’ tattered clothes were now in shreds and he could barely stand. Zao stood firm, undaunted.

“It’s over, Regulus.” said Zao triumphant.

“Not yet.” Regulus brandished his hand before him and clenched his fist. “A little trick I learned from a lich.”

Zap grasped his chest and Regulus yanked his arm back. An ethereal ghost-like facsimile of Zao tore from his body. Regulus slammed his hand into the floor and the ghost screamed and vanished into the ether. Zao’s body pitched forward, lifeless. He’d met his destiny.

“Zao!” said Mitch. He grabbed his dice from his pocket and cast his signature spell. Brandishing his big .45 in his other hand, he fired at random, allowing luck to do its job. The bullets struck home, killing the last of the spirits and giving Cortez an opening. The werewolf rushed him and then Emmanuel made the exact same motion with his hand that his brother had done a moment earlier.

Cortez stopped short of the mage and grabbed his chest. A wolf-like ghost tore free from his body and then went screaming into the spirit realms. Cortez morphed back to his human form and then pitched over backwards.

“Cortez!” said Boar, and he surrendered to his frenzy.

But Emmanuel had regained his composure and quickly proved that he was very much his brother’s equal in power. He waved his arms in a tai chi like motion and ethereal tentacles emerged from the spirit realm and bound the maddened Boar in place. “Nice try.” he mused amused. “Now let’s see how easily I can rip the life from you.”

Flame gave ground as his fire barrier snuffed out. Now he faced not just Michael, but also his allies and they were fresh and undaunted. He dashed over to Regulus’s side and helped the elder mage to his feet. Regulus gripped at the air, transforming some of it into a razor sharp cutting blade, and he jumped into the fray.

Mitch reloaded and tried to get a shot through Emmanuel’s wards, while Skelmsdale tried to break Boar loose. It was then that Mitch felt a hand on his arm.

“Leave him to me.” said Sarah, as she emerged from behind him.

“What the hell?” said Mitch in astonishment. “Where did...”

But Sarah ignored him. She stepped forward towards Emmanuel as he began his latest incantation. She caught his eye and he looked towards her.

“Ah, dear Sarah, are you my prize for tonight?” threatened Emmanuel lustfully.

“No, never again.” she replied as she locked eyes with him. It was then that Emmanuel realized his mistake.

“Get out of my....” said Emmanuel. He let out a violent scream as Sarah began tearing his deepest fears loose from the deepest recesses of his mind.

“Now, Mitch!” said Skelmsdale. “Finish him!”

Mitch’s pistol spoke once and Emmanuel’s head whipped back, a single round in the center of his forehead.

“NO!!!!” bellowed Regulus in fury. But Flame kept his head, realizing the battle was lost. He reached upward towards the statue. One of the monstrous effigy’s jeweled eyes broke loose and flew into his hand. He then grabbed the surviving Noble brother and vanished from sight.

A bizarre and almost unnatural quiet descended upon the room.

“We’ve done it. The Brotherhood is defeated.” said Mosely.

Next Chapter