The very thought that his father's soldiers now served Selene, just as his father's blood now flowed in her veins, galled him beyond endurance. Had Alexander Corvinus willingly shared his blood with Selene, or had she stolen it from his dying body? Knowing his father, he suspected the former. Were there no ends to which he would not go to thwart his own sons?

He betrayed us with his dying breath.

More rubble fell from the ceiling as the battered structure settled in the wake of the explosion. Had William survived the attack? Marcus was tormented by his inability to take part in the battle raging outside the crypt. I have to escape this accursed rathole, join with my brother against our enemies!

His black eyes tracked the falling debris. Bits of gravel splashed into the water in front of the partially submerged door. A thought occurred to him as he recalled the great chunks of granite that had been sent flying when he had slammed Selene into the wall outside the alcove. Was it possible that some of that debris might have fallen across the floor of the portal before Selene had brought the secret door cras.h.i.+ng down again? If so, then perhaps the door had not been able to close entirely.

His claws dove beneath the water, probing for a crack along the bottom of the door.

Yes! There it was!

At last, the deafening roar of the avalanche died down enough that Selene could actually hear herself think. Stray stones and chunks of ice clattered down from above, but the worst of the collapse seemed to be over. A cloud of raised powder reduced her visibility as she cautiously ventured out of the relative safety of the tunnel.

An eerie silence, broken only by the occasional falling rock, descended over the dungeons in the wake of the explosions and their cataclysmic aftermath. Selene listened in vain for the growl of an approaching werewolf. Peering up through the snowy haze, she saw that the exit by the ledge had been completely buried beneath a mountain of snow and ice.

She wandered beneath what was left of the bridge. Samuel's body was tangled in the heavy cables hanging underneath the wooden span. His eyes stared blankly into hers. Blood dripped from his mangled throat onto the snow several yards below.

To her slight surprise, she wasn't even remotely tempted by the mortal's blood. Her mouth failed to water at the sight of the crimson fluid. Her fangs remained snugly inside her gums. Corvinus's blood, it seemed, had satisfied her thirst for the time being. She wondered briefly how long it would sustain her.

The snowy whirlwind began to settle, clearing the air before her eyes. High overhead, the dense clouds parted to let the full moon s.h.i.+ne through. Selene instinctively noted that the moon was sinking behind the mountains in preparation for the coming dawn. The night was almost over. Soon she would need shelter from the sun.

That shouldn't be a problem, she thought. Looking up at the sky, she saw the helicopter soar above the castle. Even if the chopper didn't come back for her, now that the other Cleaners were dead, there were certainly any number of gloomy catacombs in which she could wait out the day if necessary. First, though, I need to determine whether William is still on the prowl.

The silver moonlight filtered down through the icy haze. At last, Selene was able to truly appreciate the vast scope of the dungeons. She found herself standing at the bottom of a cavernous s.p.a.ce surrounded on all sides by rubble both new and old. A timeworn set of steps led up to the demolished landings on the upper level. Amazingly, the bridge had remained more or less intact, aside from the snarl of ropy cables hanging beneath the wooden planks. Snow-covered debris was scattered all around her, along with the bodies of both Greenway and Levin. A gaping crater had opened in the floor before her.

Feeling only slightly like a grave robber, she claimed an Uzi and ammo from Levin's body. She locked and loaded, just in case either William or Marcus came after her. She felt bad about leading the Cleaners to their deaths, but, ultimately, that had been more Corvinus's doing than hers. They had merely been fulfilling his final commands. She could only hope that their deaths had not been in vain, that both William and Marcus had been neutralized for good.

The moon's cold radiance crept across the floors of the dungeons, spilling into the shadowy nooks and crannies while falling upon the scattered bodies of the Cleaners. Selene failed to appreciate the significance of this development...until she heard the ropes rustling over her head.

What the f.u.c.k? She looked up to discover that she was standing directly beneath Samuel's corpse, which abruptly jerked back to life. His eyes peeled open, revealing evil cobalt orbs. Enmeshed within the dangling ropes, he thrashed and squirmed against his bonds. His jaws snapped spastically, revealing elongated canines that were already starting to resemble fangs. The bones and muscles of his face s.h.i.+fted painfully, contorting themselves into a more beastly countenance. His feral eyes locked on her. He hissed like an animal, groping for her with clawlike nails. He twisted himself into a frenzy, doing everything in his power to break free and tear her apart.

Selene remembered the infected peasants in those old woodcuts. Tanis's words echoed in her brain: "These weren't the lycans we know.... These were raging monsters, never able to take human form again."

Apparently, the historian had not been exaggerating.

Selene knew what she had to do. Steely-eyed, without remorse, she raised the submachine gun and unleashed a fully automatic burst of silver ammo, chewing Samuel to shreds. She kept firing until the revived corpse stopped moving once more. She felt certain that was what the Cleaner would have wanted. His bullet-riddled body slumped limply into the tangled cables.

Once again, there was no time to mourn his death. The bridge creaked loudly, as though someone was running across it. Selene looked up in time to see a blurry form drop down behind her. She spun around to confront the resurrected corpse of Greenway, the young Cleaner who had died upon the bridge. If he recognized her, or remembered how she had saved his life, his crazed animal eyes gave no sign of it.

Like Samuel, the infected Cleaner was caught in the throes of a grotesque and painful transformation. His body was changing in fits and starts, some parts morphing faster than others, so that he presented a horrifying spectacle: part man, part beast, part shambling zombie. His ravaged throat still hung in tatters, despite the claws jutting from his fingertips and the fangs protruding from his gums. Patches of thick black bristles sprouted at random over his face and hands. Foam dribbled down his chin.

Some part of him must have recognized the Uzi in her grip, because he turned and fled instead of attacking her. Selene fired off the last of the submachine gun's ammo, then s.n.a.t.c.hed a fresh rifle from Samuel's corpse.

Greenway ran below the length of the bridge. Selene whipped up the rifle and fired nonstop as she chased after him. The bullets slammed into his back, eventually bringing him down. He collapsed face-first onto the rubble. Selene squeezed a few more rounds into his skull just to make sure he stayed down this time.

A b.e.s.t.i.a.l snarl heralded the attack of yet another newborn lycan. Selene recognized Levin, whose body had nearly dropped onto her head before, as he came charging at her from the shadows. She opened fire, but Samuel's gun ran out of ammo almost immediately.

s.h.i.+t!

Levin's own Uzi still dangled from a strap around his shoulder, but the infected Cleaner ignored his gun, intent on using his fangs and claws instead.

Tossing her empty gun aside, she grabbed on to the lunging lycan and flipped him over her shoulder, so that he landed flat on his back on the ice behind her. A sideways kick to his skull took the fight out of him, but only for a moment. Selene drew her silver-plated hunting knife from its sheath, just as two more lycans appeared on the scene.

She recognized the two Cleaners who had been killed near the water. They were further along in their transformations, looking more like werewolves and less like zombies. Bones cracked loudly as their wolfen snouts pushed outward from their faces. Their shredded black uniforms began to burst at their seams as their inner wolves swelled within them. Low growls emerged from their throats. Foam speckled their lips.

The third lycan, recovering from her kick, scrambled back onto his feet. Selene found herself outnumbered and armed only with a single knife. She could probably bring one of the lycans down by throwing the knife at his skull, but that would leave her completely empty-handed. The lycans circled her warily, slowly closing in on her. Selene twisted from side to side, trying to keep her eyes on all three lycans.

Things weren't looking good....

The helicopter made another pa.s.s over the castle. Now that the clouds had blown away from the moon, the pilot could see all the way down into the open pit the ruined fortress had become. He saw the vampire woman, Selene, cornered by three nasty-looking lycans who seemed to be well on their way to transforming completely into werewolves. He couldn't help wondering what had happened to Samuel and the others.

Death Dealer or not, the woman was only moments away from being ripped to pieces by the hungry pack. According to Samuel, the Old Man had been quite emphatic about doing whatever it took to help the vampire complete her mission.

"What are you waiting for?" he shouted at the gunner. "Shoot 'em."

The gunner peered down the sights of his fifty-caliber machine gun. "I can't!" he yelled back. "Not without taking her out, too! I can't get a shot!"

d.a.m.n! the pilot thought. Something fluttered at the corner of his vision, and he looked around to see the American's body bag blowing around the c.o.c.kpit. His eyes widened as he realized that the unzipped bag was empty.

The gunner spotted the loose bag as well. Both soldiers spun around in their seats to see Michael Corvin, alive and well, standing behind them.

The fugitive doctor no longer looked human. His eyes were pools of molten blackness. His skin shone like silver in the moonlight. Powerful muscles bulged atop his bare chest. Claws jutted from his hands and feet.

"Holy s.h.i.+t!" the gunner gasped. His jaw was practically on the floor.

The pilot knew how he felt.

Ignoring the two humans, Corvin threw open the side door and stared intently down into the exposed dungeon. He growled savagely at the lycans converging on Selene. Without hesitation, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up one of the coiled rappelling ropes piled up inside the copter and hurled himself out of the chopper into the empty air.

He plunged toward the ruined castle, clutching the rappelling line with one hand.

Selene slowly backed into a corner. The three proto-lycans closed in on her. Her eyes s.h.i.+fted from one to another, trying to antic.i.p.ate which of the beasts would make the first move. As their transformations progressed, it was getting harder and harder to tell them apart. Not that it mattered. Their human ident.i.ties were no longer relevant. They were nothing but bloodthirsty beasts now.

She waved her silver blade back and forth in front of them. Come and get me, she dared them. In her heart, she had always intended to go down fighting against one lycan or another. That was how a Death Dealer died.

The lycan on the right-she thought it used to be Levin-gave away its intentions by peeling his lips back away from his fangs. Tapered ears tilted forward, another sure sign that he was about ready to attack. Selene watched him carefully, while still trying to keep track of the other two lycans. That pair had evolved completely into werewolves by now. The shredded remnants of their uniforms lay discarded upon the snow, replaced by the s.h.a.ggy black fur covering them from head to toe. Wolfen snouts drooled and snapped at her.

With a hostile growl, the third lycan lunged at her, but Selene was ready for him. She feinted with the silver blade, then punched the monster square in the face, nearly breaking its jaw. The startled lycan yowled in pain, but did not retreat. Blood gushed from its nostrils as it came at her again, even as the other two werewolves joined in for the kill.

This is it, she thought. Even with Alexander Corvinus's blood flowing through her, she doubted that she could fight off three werewolves single-handedly. She would be dead before the sun rose. Who knows? Perhaps it's better this way. She had nothing to live for anymore. Wait for me, Michael. I will be with you soon.

Then, without warning, an unexpected figure crashed to earth right behind the advancing beasts. Claws extended, he pounced on the werewolf in the rear, slas.h.i.+ng away at him before he ripped out the beast's spine with his bare hands. The monster crumpled to the ground in a b.l.o.o.d.y heap.

That still left two lycans for Selene to deal with. Barely aware of what was happening a few yards away, she ducked beneath Levin's flailing claws and drove her silver knife into her a.s.sailant's shoulder. The lycan howled in pain. Smoke rose from where the toxic silver came in contact with his flesh and bone. Taking advantage of his agony and confusion, she slipped behind him and grabbed on to the Uzi dangling from his shoulder. She took aim at the second werewolf and squeezed the trigger. Red-hot silver brought down the advancing beast even as she slashed her knife across Levin's throat. A death rattle escaped his muzzle, and Selene callously shoved the dead body away from her, so that it smacked down onto the floor.

Only then did she look up to see who had come to her rescue. Her stoic expression melted instantly, like an ice castle in the sun.

"Michael?"

She couldn't believe her eyes. It was impossible, and yet there he was, standing before her in all his hybrid glory. She ran forward and smothered him in a tight embrace, all but dissolving him into her arms. Tears of joy streamed down her face. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so happy.

He was alive!

A furious roar shattered the moment. William lunged out of the snowy haze, snapping at them like a rabid dog. Selene dived out of the way of the monster's flas.h.i.+ng claws, then watched in astonishment as Michael moved to defend her. One of them growled angrily, but she couldn't tell who.

The original, primal werewolf confronted his hybrid nephew. William reared back on his hind legs and slashed out at Michael's throat. Michael grabbed William's arm in midswing, and the two combatants went spinning across the floor, locked in a battle to the death. They slammed into the ancient stone staircase, which crumbled beneath the impact. Centuries-old steps broke apart in a matter of seconds.

Michael and William barely noticed. They grappled with each other like wolves competing for control of the pack. In a sense, William was the established alpha wolf, confident in his power and dominance, while Michael was the upstart challenger only recently come into his full strength. The past battled the future...with the safety of the entire world at stake.

In the flooded crypt, Marcus could hear the battles raging outside. His claws were thrust deeply into the freezing water as they dug into the narrow crack left behind when the hidden door had closed on top of the granite debris. His wings flapped impatiently as, grunting in exertion, he strained with all his might to lift the door back open. He cursed Selene's name with every breath.

William needed him! He could not tarry here any longer.

Slowly, the door began to give way.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Avoiding the stairs, Selene sprang up onto the second level and sprinted over to the bridge. As she'd hoped, Greenway's gun was still lying on the wooden planks, not far from where he had died the first time. She ran out onto the bridge and scooped up the gun. Please let it still have some ammo in it, she prayed. We're going to need plenty of firepower before this is over.

She was in luck. Not only was the Uzi not empty, but it was loaded with ultraviolet rounds. Not quite as good as silver nitrate when it came to killing werewolves, but beggars couldn't be choosers. She hefted the weapon and took aim at William, being careful not to catch Michael in her sights. She waited for her shot, then fired down at William from the bridge.

Blam! William took a hit to his chest. A b.l.o.o.d.y wound blossomed beneath his snowy pelt. He roared furiously, and Selene squeezed hard on the trigger. Michael wisely backed off as she blasted away at the freakish albino werewolf.

Die already! she thought. Why don't you just die?

A thumping noise came from above. Selene looked up to see the Lynx helicopter hovering over the breach. She remembered the gunner posted aboard the chopper and realized that this was their chance to exterminate William once and for all. "Stand clear!" she shouted to Michael, hoping that she and the helicopter crew were on the same wavelength. "Get back!"

The airborne Cleaners came through for them. With Michael and Selene both safely clear of the frothing werewolf, the guns.h.i.+p opened fire on William with its heavy artillery. Fifty-caliber sh.e.l.ls strafed the ruins as they zeroed in on the monstrous lycanthrope.

Selene glanced nervously up at the sky, which was starting to lighten. Dawn was not far away, but she wasn't ready to panic just yet. With the advent of the helicopter, the battle seemed to be turning in their favor. She had every reason to hope that it was William who would be dead by sunrise.

Unless something went terribly wrong.

Marcus came rus.h.i.+ng out into the open dungeon. Water dripped from his wings and satin trousers. The battered overcoat had been left behind in the deserted crypt. He no longer felt any need to conceal his hybrid nature.

He glared up at the helicopter attacking his brother. Although he had never laid eyes on such a craft before, the blood memories of Kraven and his other victims allowed him to recognize the threat posed by the armed chopper. He looked around for a weapon he could use against the guns.h.i.+p and its arrogant mortal crew, and his gaze fell upon the rappelling line still dangling from the copter. His black eyes narrowed in thought.

Aboard the Lynx, the gunner kept firing at the huge white beast below.

"Keep it up!" the pilot urged him. He recognized the albino monster from their mission briefing; that had to be the infamous William. He wondered what had become of the werewolf's hybrid brother. Marcus was the one who had attacked the Sancta Helena and killed Macaro and the others. The pilot wouldn't be happy until they had nailed the renegade Elder as well. That's the b.a.s.t.a.r.d I really want, he thought vengefully.

Suddenly, the chopper rocked violently. "What the h.e.l.l?" the pilot blurted. He fought with the controls, trying to stabilize their flight. He worked the pedals and pulled back on the stick, while frantically scanning the monitors on the control panel. All systems were in order, so why did it feel as if they were being tossed around by a hurricane?

"What's happening?" the gunner hollered at him.

"You tell me!"

Down on the ground, Marcus held on to the rappelling line with both fists. He gritted his fangs as he physically dragged the copter down toward the gutted castle. Struggling against the lift generated by the chopper's spinning blades, he laboriously pulled on the cable, hand over fist, in a frightening display of superhuman strength.

Marcus knew he had his new hybrid nature to thank for the power he now possessed. Even as an Elder, and the primordial ancestor of the entire vampire race, he doubted that he could ever have performed such a feat before. Could Viktor have pulled down a military helicopter with his bare hands?

I think not, he thought smugly.

Already he had succeeded in disrupting the guns.h.i.+p's presumptuous a.s.sault upon his brother. The foolish mortals aboard the aircraft could hardly aim their weapons while being yanked out of the sky, but that was just the beginning. He wasn't finished with the copter yet.

The sky belongs to those with wings, he mused. It was time to teach this noisy, graceless vessel the folly of defying that obvious truism. Down you come!

The captured line snapped taut against the side of the bridge. Marcus gave the rope another tug and the Lynx crashed through the breach in the ground floor of the castle. Sparks ignited, and shards of broken debris turned into deadly shrapnel as the spinning rotor blades were sheared in half by the jagged stone edges of the gap.

The bridge was right below it.

Upon the bridge, Selene looked up in horror, barely able to believe what she was seeing. The Lynx was coming down straight at her!

She somersaulted out of the way with only a second to spare. The plunging helicopter crashed to a stop only a few inches away from her, caught upon one of the st.u.r.dy stone ledges supporting the bridge. Scrambling to her feet, she gaped in amazement at the mangled wreckage of the copter right before her eyes. Blood painted the inside of the winds.h.i.+eld red, and she severely doubted that either the pilot or the gunner had survived the earthshaking crash. To her surprise, however, she saw that the turboshaft engine had somehow remained intact, so that the truncated rotor blades continued to spin like mad, tearing up the wormy timber planks nearest the crash site. Selene backed away warily as slivers of shredded wood went flying like dozens of miniature wooden stakes.

I don't understand, she thought, shaking her head in confusion. One minute the guns.h.i.+p had been leading the fight against William; the next, it had come plummeting out of the sky like a piece of s.p.a.ce debris. How could this happen?

The answer came winging out of the night. Marcus swooped down and rammed her with his fists. The blow knocked the breath from her and sent the carbine rifle clattering onto what remained of the bridge.

The Elder didn't give her a second to catch her breath. Grabbing her arm, his sharpened claws digging into her flesh even through the skintight leather, he hurled her across the length of the bridge. She staggered backward upon the creaking wooden planks, coming perilously close to the spinning blades. The wash from the blades blew against her back and caused her dark hair to whip about wildly.

Marcus was in the hybrid form she recognized from their previous battles. She glared at him in disgust. Where she found Michael's hybrid guise strangely attractive, the Elder's batlike countenance was nothing but repulsive. He advanced toward her, forcing her back toward the spinning blades. Greenway's rifle lay on the bridge between them, frustratingly out of reach. There was no way she could go for the rifle and its lethal UV cartridges, not without Marcus descending on her first.

Michael! she thought desperately. Although she wasn't sure how he had done so, she knew that the demented Elder must have brought the helicopter down. His unwanted return filled her with dread. She was terrified that Marcus would murder Michael all over again. Watch out! He's free!

Down on the floor, Michael and William had resumed their epic clash. Michael wasn't entirely sure what had happened to the guns.h.i.+p, and at the moment he was too busy to care. Instinct had taken over and all that mattered was the enemy right in front of him. A bloodred haze descended over his vision as he fought tooth and nail against the fearsome werewolf. William's claws raked his skin, digging deep gouges in his flesh, but the pain only increased the atavistic fury raging inside him. He gave as good as he got, ripping into the leathery hide beneath the werewolf's furry coat with his own b.l.o.o.d.y talons. His Hippocratic oath had vanished completely from his fevered brain. He wasn't a doctor right now. He was a killer.

William had the weight advantage, though, which he pressed by knocking Michael onto his back. The werewolf pounced on top of Michael, pinning him to the floor as his jaws zoomed in on the younger monster's throat.

Michael saw William's fangs coming at him. For a split second, he flashed back to Lucian taking a bite out of him a few nights ago. That was when his life had changed irrevocably, beginning the process that had turned him into this unnatural thing he had become. Now, it seemed, William intended to destroy what Lucian had created.

Like h.e.l.l! Michael thought. His anger over what had been done to him boiled over, fueling his determination to stay alive. He had already lost his humanity. He wasn't about to lose his life, too. And his future with Selene.

He tucked his chin in to protect his throat. With an explosive movement powered by sheer determination, he rotated sharply to the right, throwing William off him. Before the werewolf could regain his footing, Michael leaped on top of him. He stared furiously into the monster's scarlet eyes, seeing in William's b.e.s.t.i.a.l face Lucian, Kraven, Viktor, Marcus, and every other heartless monster that had brutalized him and Selene over the past few nights. He pounded the werewolf's snout with his fists, taking out his fury on the subhuman creature beneath him.

No more! he raged. I'm ending this...now!

Sinking his claws into William's muzzle, he ripped off the werewolf's snout.

"No!" Marcus reacted in shock. He turned to go to his brother's defense, and Selene saw her opportunity. She surged forward and drove her fingers into his throat, then followed up with a vicious knee to his groin. He dropped to his knees, doubled over in pain, just in time to see Michael tear out William's snout.

Blood spouted like a fountain from the werewolf's ruined face. He clutched at mangled flesh with his huge misshapen paws, but there was no recovering from such a wound. He tried to roar, but all that emerged from his gaping maw was a wet gurgle. He toppled over onto the snow and debris. His arms and limbs twitched convulsively as he drowned in his own blood. Finally, he fell still and silent.