Black Dog(130)

Thaddeus Williams, half changed, his silver blade in one clawed hand, huge even among the crowd of ordinarily massive black dogs, had meanwhile been fighting half a dozen enemies, not quite on his own: the Dimilioc wolves had brought Cass Pearson along with them. The slim little shifter seemed no match for the much bigger black dogs, but she was wickedly quick and savage, and entirely fearless – Alejandro saw her slice her claws across the throat of an enemy black dog twice her size, then spin to snap at the face of another. She leaped away from her enemy’s return strike and darted forward to slash at the rear legs of one of Thaddeus’s opponents, trying to hamstring him. That injury would certainly challenge a black dog’s healing ability, but her attack was even more effective than Alejandro had expected, because when the black dog whirled to face her, Thaddeus lunged forward, ripped his knife across the black dog’s throat, tore his head off and threw it like a missile, thirty feet or more, to smash into one of the shadow black dogs fighting Ezekiel. Alejandro was certain – almost certain – that actual beheading was something that not even Vonhausel could repair.

And all the time, the crack-crack-crack of rifle fire went on: how Grayson had got humans here from the Dimilioc house so fast was a mystery, but however he had managed it, the gunmen were firing all the time. Dimilioc might almost have brought twice the number of black wolves to this battle – Alejandro couldn’t believe how enorme a difference the gunmen made. One after another of Vonhausel’s black dogs went down howling, the silver bullets leaving smoking tracks through their bodies.

If all the enemies had been ordinary black dogs, that would have surely been enough to shift the battle in Dimilioc’s favor. But the silver didn’t work as it should have on Vonhausel’s dead-shadow black dogs. Alejandro saw one bullet after another strike Zachariah, strike Harrison, strike another of the shadow-possessed black dogs. But the undead black dogs did not fall. They might stumble or hesitate. But then they pressed forward again. Black dogs couldn’t do that; vampires could not have done that. But these creatures could.

Alejandro wished that the Dimilioc Master or the executioner would do what Thaddeus had done: tear off their enemies’ heads, or at least limbs – inflict damage which would actually count. But the press of fighting was too intense and they couldn’t. It amazed Alejandro that the Dimilioc wolves continued to fight, that they had come here at all – that they did not retreat. They must have recognized now that they would all die here. Unless they could kill Vonhausel before they were all overwhelmed and dragged down. And Vonhausel was staying far away from any enemy who might kill him.

“I’ll go,” Alejandro said, barely aware he’d spoken aloud. “I’ll help Ethan, help them all get Ezekiel clear. If the rest of us can just get him clear of those black dogs and let him reach Vonhausel–”

“No!” Natividad said sharply. She was up on her toes, her eyes brilliant with shock and terror. She was staring at Vonhausel, who had bent to do something to one of his freshly killed black dogs. It shook its head and rolled to its feet. So fast. Vonhausel had caught a shadow to possess that dead black dog so fast. Alejandro started to leave the pentagram, heading toward the wild tangle of combat surrounding Ezekiel.

Natividad gripped Alejandro’s arm hard. Alejandro hesitated. He was losing language; he couldn’t frame an argument in either English or Spanish. But he had to go; obviously Dimilioc needed all its black wolves for this battle. He shook himself free of his sister’s grip, calling his shadow up, inviting the cambio. The lingering weakness of his recently broken limb was not good, but if Ezekiel could still fight, so could he–

“No!” Natividad said again. She caught Alejandro’s arm again, this time with both her hands. “Alejandro, no, you’ll just get killed and it won’t make any difference anyway!”

Her words went past Alejandro like wind in the leaves. He heard her and knew she was upset, but he would have had to stop and think hard to make sense of what she had said. And there was no time for that. He could see another of the undead black dogs closing on Ezekiel, and now another undead black dog had joined Harrison, and what if Grayson was killed? It didn’t bear thinking on, and yet it could happen, and Alejandro just stood here like an ordinary helpless human…

Vonhausel himself, in black dog form, was standing over the body of yet another of his own black dogs. He merely beckoned to it, and that dead black dog got to its feet, looking around with burning eyes that contained no trace of humanity. It shook itself and headed for Ezekiel. Worse, toward the periphery of the battle, Alejandro could see black dogs heading out into the night – going, he was sure, to stalk the men with the guns. If Dimilioc lost the supporting fire of the gunmen, the battle would be over, the slaughter of the remaining Dimilioc wolves merely a formality.