Demon Deathchase (17 page)

A bewitching light zipped out of the gap between the vehicle’s undercarriage and the
ground. As Borgoff looked askance at the pair of crescent blades sparking together
in the spot where he’d stood, his right hand went into action. Grabbing the bow and
arrows tucked through the back of his belt, he readied them in midair. There was a
sound like the plucking of a zither’s strings as he loosed two arrows simultaneously.
What was really strange about the shot was how his arrows hit the tangled crescent
blades, turned a few times, and slid up along the wires attached to the blades.

A low groan could be heard from the far side of the bus.

Borgoff circled around the vehicle to stand over the fallen Kyle. One steel arrow
quivered in his brother’s stomach and another was stuck through the top of his head.
“I didn’t want to have to do this to my own brother, but I didn’t really have a choice,”
he told Kyle. “You went and got turned by a vampire. But at least now I know what
she really is. I’ll avenge you, so rest easy.” Notching a third arrow, Borgoff took
aim at his agonized brother’s heart. “The next time you’re reborn as a vampire, try
not to shade your eyes from the sun when it’s not all that bright out.” And he watched
until the bitter end, until the steel shaft had pierced his younger brother’s heart.

—

I

—

He was at a bit of a loss. On account of the girl. He wasn’t entirely sure what he
should do with her. Though the girl was as vibrant as a sunny day, she hadn’t said
anything about where she lived or why that huntsman with the countenanced carbuncle
was chasing her. Of course, in this form Grove couldn’t very well ask her, so he had
no choice but to wait for her to tell him about it. When the girl had regained consciousness,
she’d tried to go into the forest right away. Grove made a move to go with her, but
she seemed troubled by that so he decided to stay out of it. But, on further consideration,
it would be dangerous for a woman to be in the woods alone.

According to what the girl had said, she was going through the woods in a carriage
with someone else when that huntsman attacked them, or something like that. Grove
had his doubts that the story was as simple as that, because some parts of the girl’s
tale just didn’t fit together right. He got the impression the fuzzier parts of her
story were somehow connected to him and his brothers, but that didn’t present a problem
for him in his current state.

Seeing the girl off as she thanked him repeatedly and left, he started after her a
few minutes after she’d vanished into the woods, but she hadn’t gone more than a stone’s
throw from the entrance—she was just standing there. Ultimately, he ended up going
with her in search of her lover, just as she’d asked him to.

After an hour of walking around looking for the love of her life, the girl was nearly
exhausted. She was breathing hard and beads of sweat were strung close together on
her brow.

So weak
, he thought, confident in his own healthy body. At that thought, he felt a swell
of pity. He really wanted to help her find whoever she was looking for. After all,
there was no telling when he’d have to go back.

Getting the girl on her feet again, he was helping her continue the search when twilight
came calling. The woods were dangerous at night. He tried to lead the girl out of
the forest, but it didn’t go very well. Now he was lost, too. When the girl saw him
with his shrugged shoulders, Grove was afraid she might get scared, but to his great
surprise she giggled. Whether she’d been traveling with her lover or not, she must’ve
had guts to take a carriage ride this far off the beaten trail on the Frontier.

Though her brightness seemed to know no end, there was just a hint of melancholy in
her smile that whipped up Grove’s protective instincts. At this point, the girl said
something rather odd—that as soon as it was night, her lover was sure to come looking
for her. Dubious of her confidence-filled eyes, he couldn’t believe that would be
the case. They’d be better off asking his brothers—who should be getting closer by
the minute—for help.

Circling around behind the girl so as not to startle her, Grove sent a bolt of lightning
into the air. The white-hot streak stretched up into the deepening blue of the evening
sky without a sound.

—

Borgoff was in the driver’s seat of the bus coming out of a cramped valley, and his
narrow eyes sparkled at the sight of the energy bolt. “Wow, if ol’ Grove has gone
to all the trouble of giving us a signal—Well, he must’ve found something.”

—

Dashing through woods sealed in darkness, Caroline glanced up at the heavens and grinned
broadly. “That’s the same light I saw back in the village,” she said. “Surely it’s
a signal that boy has found something.”

—

Deep in thought as he bent over the corpse of what had been Mashira, Mayerling snapped
to attention at the heaven-splitting bolt of light rising from a part of the woods
not so far away. “I was wondering who might’ve slain Mashira,” he muttered, “Such
raw power . . . Well, I don’t care who it is. If they’ve laid a hand on that young
lady, it won’t be pretty, by my oath.”

—

The girl felt oddly at peace. That was thanks to the youth in front of her. His innocent
face and baby-soft complexion gave her an unrivaled sense of security. The young man
didn’t seem to fit into the forests of Frontier, but seemed like he’d be more suited
for a life in the Capital.

The sun would be setting soon. Her love would probably be here in no time. No matter
where she might be, she knew he’d find her. The girl was positive of that. As she
played her gentle gaze over the youth standing before her in the caress of the evening
breeze, the girl thought how sad how it was that he looked so healthy and yet couldn’t
speak a word.

Suddenly, the girl blinked. The young man turned her way, seeming surprised. A grove
of trees was visible through his bright face. The youth was fading away.

His sad eyes gazed at the girl, and his lips formed a word.
Goodbye.

The girl reached out to him. The youth was growing ever more transparent, like glass
disappearing in water.
Goodbye
, the girl said frantically. Regardless of who he really was, she wanted to thank
him as he left.
Goodbye, goodbye, thank you and goodbye
.

And then the youth vanished. In a corner of the woods growing darker and duskier,
the girl was left alone.

The wind seemed to grow chillier. The eyes of countless blood-crazed beasts peered
out at her from the depths of the forest.

I’m scared
, the girl thought from the very depths of her soul.
So scared. Hurry and save me, my love.

There was a rustling of the tree branches. It came from somewhere behind her and off
to the right. The girl spun around. Someone was approaching. She couldn’t tell if
it was a man or a woman, or how they were dressed. Fear wound tight around her throat.
It was coming closer. The sound of moss being trampled and twigs snapping. Fifteen
or twenty feet ahead of her, the figure stopped moving.

A probing voice asked, “Who’s that over there? That you, Grove?”

Even though the girl knew it was a woman’s voice, her fears hadn’t dissipated. She
remembered that the man who’d attacked her earlier had two partners, and one of them
was female. As for the name of the other man, she couldn’t recall it.

When the figure took a step forward and she could make out the face of a woman she’d
never seen before, the girl finally gave a deep sigh and let the tension escape from
her shoulders.

“Let me guess—Are you the passenger from the carriage?” Well suited to the black hue
of the scarf wound about the base of her neck, the woman was none other than Leila
Marcus.

“And you are . . . ?” The girl’s face, which had filled with joy when it turned out
the new arrival wasn’t Caroline, grew tight as soon as she saw how Leila was outfitted.
A javelin and a sliver gun—there could be no mistaking the trappings of a Hunter.
There was no way a Hunter would just be hanging around a place like this alone. Which
could only mean she’d come here after her. First Mashira, now a Hunter—with one terrifying
encounter mounting on the next, the girl’s shoulders fell despondently.

“I didn’t get to see your face back there, but you’re the girl that was in the black
carriage, aren’t you?” Leila said nonchalantly. “I’m Leila Marcus. I’m a Vampire Hunter
here to get your boyfriend.”

The girl braced a hand against the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Leila asked incredulously. “You get to go home now.”

Though she listened to the Marcus woman’s words with suspicion, the girl wasn’t focused
enough to catch how Leila’s voice seemed a little feeble. “Go. Please,” she urged
the Hunter. “Just hurry up and get out of here.”

“I asked you what’s the matter?”

“I’m sure my love will be here soon,” the girl said. “The two of you will fight until
one of you is dead. And I don’t want to make either of you kill on my account.”

Leila looked at the blue darkness steadily filling the vicinity. She nodded. “I suppose
you’re right. The night is the Nobility’s world . . . ” For an instant, the fierce
expression of a warrior steeled for battle arose on her face, but it was soon replaced
by one that was strangely filled with half-hearted hatred. And once again, this time
in a surprised manner, she asked, “Are you . . . you’re still human, aren’t you?”

The girl nodded.

“So, the Noble didn’t have his way with you and drag you off then. Seriously, you
didn’t go of your own free will . . . That’s what happened, isn’t it?!”

“Yes, I did,” the girl said with a nod. The pale beauty gazed at Leila. There was
a powerful light to her eyes. So long as they had that, a person could endure just
about anything.

“So that’s what happened . . . ” A feeling of envy and sadness softened Leila’s tone.
“You love him, don’t you? In love with a Noble.”

The girl didn’t answer her. Her silence was her answer. But her eyes were sparkling.

Leila leaned up against the trunk of the gigantic tree. At her core was this hot stickiness.
It was spreading through her whole body like a fog borne on the wind. It was fatigue.
Twenty years worth of fatigue had finally seeped into her body.

Leila gazed at the girl. This girl had been carried off by a Noble and had given up
being human, yet still had infinite confidence and trust. She, on the other hand,
was renowned as one of the greatest Vampire Hunters on Earth but was now merely awaiting
a horrid fate. Could it be that the pursued was happier than the pursuer?

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Leila asked the girl.

“Huh?”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Living on the run. He has no place to go back to, no tomorrow.”

“Neither do I,” the girl replied.

“Yeah, I suppose that would help the two of you get along.”

The girl smiled thinly. “Never mind about me. Get out of here while you can. He’ll
be here soon.”

“I don’t care,” said Leila. “I’m plumb exhausted. I’ll wait here for your beloved.
So, why don’t we continue our little chat.”

A low voice from behind them said, “I don’t suppose you’d let yours truly listen in
as well?”

The girl screamed, and Leila whipped around with ungodly speed. The face that greeted
the eyes of both was that of the huntsman.

—

II

—

At the entrance to the same woods where he’d seen the streak of light, Borgoff stopped
the vehicle. For a while, he didn’t move from the driver’s seat. A strange expression
arose on his face when he got to his feet. An expression stripped of every emotion—almost
the face of an imbecile.

Slipping through the sleeping quarters, Borgoff went into the arsenal and pulled a
small timer and explosive from a wooden crate, then returned to the bunks. Going over
to Groveck’s bed, he carefully pulled away the blanket. An emaciated face appeared.
He put his rough thumb to the barely colored lips. There was a faint flow of air.
Groveck was still alive.

A single tear coursed from Borgoff’s eye. When that shining bead snagged in his frightful
beard, it hung there forever.

“It looks like it’s down to just you and me,” Borgoff said to the dearest of his brothers.
It was this, the third born, that he loved more than Nolt or Kyle, or even more than
Leila. “But this job’s just about up to the big finale. I really need your power here.
Which is all well and good, but you just got back from an attack and there’s no reason
you’d be having another one right away.”

At this point, Borgoff sobbed. “That’s why it’s gotta be this way. I hate to say it,
but you’re gonna have to let me give you one. Looks to me like you ain’t gonna stand
but one more of these attacks. Once you have the next one, there’ll be no saving you.
That being the case, I want you to give your life for me.”

His words could be taken as both sorrowful and unsettling, but what Borgoff did as
he wept was horrific. Turning down the blanket even more, right about where his brother’s
heart was—over the thin sternum and above the jutting ribs—he taped the time bomb.
Though the time bomb was just four inches of plastic tubing, the explosive packed
in it would easily blow away the ribs and take out part of Grove’s internal organs.

That couldn’t possibly be what he planned to do to his brother’s chest as Grove lay
fighting for breath, could it?

Borgoff said he was sorry. His tears flowed without end.

Give your life for me.

While one strip of tape would’ve been enough to guard against the bomb slipping off,
Borgoff put on a third layer, then a fourth, just in case Groveck tried to peel it
off. Once he finished his work and had gently replaced the blanket, Borgoff lightly
stroked his brother’s forehead. “So long,” he said. “I’ll make it back for sure.”
And then, with his deadly bow and quiver of arrows across his back, he headed outside
with an easy gait.

Evening was about to change from blue to black.

Borgoff ran. His gut told him from which way Groveck’s streak of light had come.

His pace gradually quickened. The muscles in his legs creaked and popped as they swelled,
and, perhaps more surprisingly, even the bones grew thicker. His upper body remained
as massive as ever, but his lower limbs had been transformed into the legs of a veritable
giant. And yet, his feet made almost no noise as they struck the mossy ground. In
fact, they barely left a dent in the moss.

Perhaps this was a behest from his parents, who were said to have possessed genetic
engineering technology. But why was it that when he walked up a slope, his body remained
nearly perpendicular to the terrain?

He entered the woods. At a speed nearly five times that of an ordinary person, he
headed deeper into the trees. The way his feet moved, it seemed like they didn’t know
the meaning of the word stop. Soon, however, they came to a sudden halt. He’d just
run into a bizarre area. There he could see what looked like a model of the Capital
made entirely out of dirt. A cluster of conical buildings roughly fifteen feet high
were connected by transport tubes a foot and a half thick. The Capital seemed to run
on forever into the forest.