A series of howls and war cries echoed through the camp. Vanda peered around the cabin. The werewolves and Japanese had attacked.
The Malcontents, taken by surprise, suddenly found themselves fighting on two fronts. Their line thinned and faltered. Screams of pains filled the air. The grass was littered with piles of dust that were quickly scattered as the warriors trampled over them.
Vanda saw a group of four Malcontents break away and run down a path. She narrowed her eyes. She'd recognized Casimir and Sigismund. They might be escaping, fearing that the battle had turned against them, or they could be going to Robby.
"Let's follow them," she whispered to Maggie and Pierce.
They stayed in the shelter of the trees and followed the path Casimir had taken. It led to a cave where two Malcontents were standing guard at the entrance. Sigismund and Casimir must have gone inside.
"How good are you two with knives?" Vanda asked.
"Very good." Maggie took the knife from her belt. "I've got the one on the left."
Her husband held a hunting knife. "On the count of three." He counted softly, then the knives spun into the air. They landed with a thud in the chests of the two Malcontents.
Pierce's was a direct hit to the heart, and the Malcontent turned to dust. Maggie's victim fell to the ground. Pierce rushed forward at vampire speed, yanked the knife out, and plunged it into the surviving Malcontent's heart. He turned to dust as well.
He handed the knife back to Maggie before they entered the cave. A lit torch was attached to the cave wall every ten feet. They progressed quietly, then halted when the main tunnel divided in two.
"You guys take the right," Vanda whispered. "I'll go left."
"Are you sure?" Pierce asked.
"Yes." Vanda removed the knife from the sheath on her calf and hurried down the narrow tunnel. It grew darker, so she removed a torch from the wall to light her way. The tunnel opened into a room with stalactites dripping from the ceiling. She weaved through the stalagmites. No Malcontents. No Robby.
She heard a moan and whirled around.
"Robby?" She barely breathed the name, hoping the sound wouldn't carry too far.
She heard the moan again. She held up the torch and peered around slowly. There, a narrow crack in the wall. She turned sideways and squeezed through.
It was another room. And there, in the middle, was Robby tied to chair.
"Robby," she whispered, rushing to him.
He lifted his head, and she halted with a jolt. Good Lord, they'd beaten his face black and blue. One eye was swollen, the other one cut above the brow. Blood trickled down.
"Oh Robby." She wedged the torch between two rocks. Bile rose in her throat as she saw the slashes across his chest.
"Hungry," he whispered.
Oh no, she should have thought to bring some bottled blood. "Don't worry. I'll teleport you out of here straight to a supply of blood." There was plenty at the cabin. She could take him there.
She set down her knife, then grabbed at the chain across his chest. She cried out when it burned her fingers. Of course, silver, so he couldn't teleport away. She winced at the burn marks on Robby's chest.
She looked around for something to insulate her hands. Socks? She glanced down at Robby's feet. They were barefoot and bloody. Dammit. Was there no part of this man that they hadn't tortured?
"Hungry," Robby whispered.
"I'll get you out of here." She pulled off her shirt and wrapped it around her hands. Then she unfastened the chain around his chest and neck. She saw his hands, tied with silver behind the chair. They were burned and dripping blood.
He started to shake, and she realized he was fighting a compulsion to bite her.
"Just a little longer, hang in there." She unhooked the chain that strapped his thighs to the chair.
"No!" Robby cried.
"It'll be all right," she assured him.
Something sharp poked her in the back, and she straightened with a jerk, glancing over her shoulder.
Sigismund stood behind her, his sword pressed into her back. "We meet again, Vanda. For the final time."
CHAPTER 23
Vanda glanced at her knife on the ground. She'd never get to it in time. And she couldn't unwind her whip in time either. She let her shirt drop to the ground, then she curled her hand around the pistol she'd wedged under the waistband of her jeans.
Sigismund grabbed her suddenly, pulling her back against his chest. He swung the sword around and pressed it to her neck. "I should have killed you years ago. Jedrek insisted on doing it himself, but he's gone now. You and your nasty friends will pay for his murder."