A Higher Calling Read online

  SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

  I peered through the entranceway to my garden, a mere ghost in the shadowy darkness, my long black hair serving to hide the paleness of my skin as I took stock of the situation.

  It was as I’d surmised. Muzzle fire gave away the location of several of the invaders at the far end of the garden, their bodies mostly hidden by cover.

  To the north, I made out the spot where Paladin and his men were likely huddled, a heavy grouping of basalt imported from my home province. It had served to remind me of the grasslands where I spent portions of my youth, but now acted as the sole barrier keeping my people alive.

  Behind them, the darkness and safety of the outside loomed. However, they were separated from it by the heavy reinforced glass that made up the windows, designed to withstand the gunfire which would’ve allowed them to escape into the night and regroup.

  More important were the figures I spied to my left creeping toward them: a trio, all of them dressed from head to toe in black – likely body armor – barely visible in the gloom, save for the flashes of light from the contingent providing cover fire.

  They were the true threat, belied by the surety of their steps. If I could remove them from the equation, a counterattack in our favor became a much more likely possibility.

  Taking both blades in my left hand and lowering them to my side, to reduce the possibility of them reflecting light at an inopportune moment, I crouched down and began to make my way forward, staying close to the wall.

  Both flanks appeared too focused on the remaining resistance by my people to notice I’d entered the battlefield – perfect.

  “Reinforcements are on the way,” Paladin cried out from behind the heavy basalt. “Back off now or I guarantee your families will never get a chance to identify the bodies. Your call.”

  “Do you really expect us to believe such a pathetic lie?” one of the invaders from across the way, a male, called back, his voice sounding decisively unhurried. “Drop your weapons and mercy will be shown. We’re not here for you. This doesn’t have to end in any more deaths.”

  Both sides were throwing falsehoods about like children’s toys, each hoping the other fell for their bluff long enough to drop their guard.

  Except that apparently not all of the raiders were interested in maintaining the charade. One stood up from where the suppressing force lay and peppered the area with a spray of automatic fire, the shots ricocheting wildly off the rock formation Paladin’s people were using for cover.

  “Or we can simply ensure this place needs a lot of body bags tomorrow,” the aggressor, a female, cried, her voice containing none of the restraint of the one who first spoke.

  Interesting.

  It was of potential note, but for a later time. For now, I crept forward, more quickly, intent on taking my targets by surprise.

  Sadly, in my haste, I miscalculated. I took a sloppy step in the same instant the gunfire ceased, my foot making the slightest sound in the sandy gravel beneath my feet as I brought it down.

  A lesser opponent would’ve easily missed it. Indeed, the two closest to me continued on their way as if sensing nothing out of the ordinary. But the one in the lead stopped and spun back my way. An instant later he spotted me.

  “It’s her!” he cried.

  “Pizda,” I muttered under my breath, angry with myself for making such a foolish mistake.

  However, my annoyance didn’t stop me from lashing out. Before the invader directly in front of me could compensate to follow their leader’s alert, I reached out with my weapons and hooked their leg out from beneath them.

  They went down and I stepped atop them, pinning them to the floor, so as to confront the next in line.

  I slashed at him, willing to bet their armor was designed with ballistics in mind, not bladed weapons. My aim was true, the sword opening a gash in his chest plate, but this one had been competent enough to pull back at the last moment, ensuring any damage I’d done was minimal. Sadly, that left me wide open for counterattack.

  “Hold your fire!” the first voice cried out from across the way.

  Or perhaps not.

  I’d been right. Whoever these people were, they were here for purposes other than murdering me. That made the advantage squarely mine, something I intended to press.

  Before the two still standing before me could make their next move, I rolled over the outcropping to my immediate right, kicked off my shoes in the process, and landed with my bare feet gripping the sand beneath them.

  “What are you doing?” Paladin cried out as I stepped to the center of the garden, blades raised.

  “Offering death to those foolish enough to face me,” I replied, calm flooding my senses. Westerners had a saying about laying all of one’s cards on the table. I had just done exactly that. Now to see if my opponents were worthy of claiming me as their prize.

  “A bold move, Prefect,” the first man, obviously the leader, said, catching me by surprise.

  Hmm. He was aware of my former status within the vampire hierarchy – a Magi no doubt, but one who was far more disciplined than the majority of his fellows.

  “The only type of move I care to make.”

  “Screw this,” the female next to him cried. “She doesn’t need kneecaps to live. Take her down.”

  The invader to her immediate left stood and raised their weapon just as a shot rang out. A bullet hole appeared in the visor of their helmet, sending them to the floor. The momentary distraction I’d provided had allowed Paladin and his people a chance to regroup.

  The next move would determine the true mettle of our opponents. I fully expected them to duck back down and open fire upon Paladin’s position again, likely cutting me down in the crossfire.

  Instead, the leader nimbly leapt from cover and dive rolled to where I waited in the center. I heard movement from behind me, but almost immediately my security chief sounded out.

  “Don’t. We can’t risk hitting her.”

  “A stalemate?” I offered my opponent. He was larger than me by almost a foot in height, made even more intimidating by the tactical helmet which covered his head.

  “Hardly, Prefect,” he replied, holstering his sidearm and drawing a retractable combat baton.

  All around us movement caught my eye as others of his team followed suit.

  So be it.

  In response, I held up a hand and called out, “Only fire if they attempt to do so first. Those who choose to face me shall be allowed an honorable death.”

  “Are you crazy?” came the response, a rare outburst from Paladin.

  “They want me alive, but I doubt they’ll show you and your men the same courtesy. Stay behind cover and do as I have commanded. Do not make me repeat myself.”

  There came a muttered grumbling from his end which I took to be the chain of command asserting itself.

  “I’ll give you one chance to surrender peacefully, Prefect,” the leader said, his voice oozing a confidence seldom heard from those not of ancient blood. “What we’re attempting to do benefits you, too.”

  “I alone decide what is to my benefit, dog. Surrender seldom is.”

  “Have it your way. Take her.”

  I had to give Paladin and his men credit. I half-expected to be shot by accident in that moment. However, they were disciplined enough to not disobey my orders. That was fortunate because I was capable of many things, but dodging gunfire was perhaps a stretch even for me.

  The leader stepped in and swung his baton, a move easily countered by the blade in my right hand, leaving him wide open for...

  I sensed movement in my periphery and spun at the last second to parry another of his people. Smart. Attacking from multiple fronts. However, I was ready for...

  Oof!

  The leader dropped and swept my legs out from beneath me the moment my attention was diverted. The soft ground cushioned the fall, the damage more to my pride than anything. The second attac
ker, female judging by her size, made to slam her baton into my midsection, even as I saw two more of the invaders closing in. Before she could complete her strike, though, I brought my legs up, wrapped them around her arms, and rolled, sending her tumbling over me in the direction of her fellows, knocking at least one of them down.

  One more quick move and I was back on my feet. Their leader was also rising but his movements were slightly hampered due to the sandy terrain. It wasn’t much, barely perceptible, but he was slowed just enough to give me an opening.

  I lashed out with one of my blades, aiming for just beneath the chin of his helmet where he was most vulnerable. Much to my surprise, though, he managed to slip the end of his baton into the guard of my sword before giving it a quick twist and sending the weapon tumbling out of my hand.

  It was an expert move, a strangely familiar one at that. Whoever this man was, he was far more skilled than I gave him credit for.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Fully recovered from my throw, the two I’d knocked down joined their friends in surrounding me. They probably thought that by doing so they’d earn an easy win. Pity for them that a good deal of my training had involved battling superior numbers.

  I leaned back and swung my remaining sword over my head in a wide arc, forcing all of them to take a step back.

  Make that all but one.

  Three of my opponents, their leader included, dodged easily. The fourth, however, appeared completely taken by surprise, the swing of my blade coinciding with his own attack. It was a sloppy, inept blow, completely unlike what his leader had done, and it was answered by me lopping off his hand at the wrist.

  Fresh blood stained the sand as the injured man fell to his knees bleating like a goat. I spun, raising my sword to put him out of his misery, but a hand caught my wrist.

  “Get your people back,” the leader cried out, grappling with me. “We’ve got this.”

  Your people?

  I turned to face him, dropping my remaining weapon so as to better engage him in close quarters, as one of the invaders still on the sidelines raced in to help their injured comrade.

  A quick twist of my arm was enough to free me from the leader, allowing me to step away and catch the newcomer with a kick to the midsection which sent both him and the injured party tumbling. Pathetic, both of them. Neither had come close to mounting a defense.

  Where they failed, though, the three still facing me proved to be far more formidable. A series of punches and kicks were thrown my way from multiple different directions. I attempted to counter but they were prepared for that, feinting and attacking again. Even my formidable skills weren’t enough to keep them all at bay.

  I dropped to my knees as a kick landed in my side. A moment later, my lip was split, filling my mouth with the taste of my own blood. More blows rained down upon me as my defense faltered. But it wasn’t the pain that caused me to hesitate. No. My father had prepared me too well for that, his personal assassins being masters at inflicting the most heinous torture imaginable.

  The problem was that, once again, my opponents’ moves seemed disturbingly familiar.

  I dared a glance up, only to see the defensive stance all three of my foes had adopted, each similar to the rest but modified to take into account their position relative to me.

  Impossible.

  It was the Golden Phalanx technique. I knew it well, but so far as I was aware I was the only living person who did.

  It was one of the many martial arts taught to the vampire nation’s elite guard, but it was a dead style – in more ways than one. It had been rare for a guardsman to be under two-centuries in age, unheard of for any to be less than one. Children were not recruited to their ranks.

  Regardless, I was alone among the ancients in surviving the collapse of The Source. All others had crumbled to dust where they stood.

  Yet there was no mistaking this fighting style. It was distinct, as all true martial arts were, and the moves were expert in their fluidity. There was no way this was either fluke or coincidence. These people had studied this technique in depth ... just as elite guardsmen would be expected to.

  What does it mean?

  “The hell with this!”

  I didn’t need to look to understand that Paladin had just launched himself into the fray, no doubt in an attempt to protect me.

  If what I began to suspect was true, though, all of his training would prove insufficient to the skills on display here.

  But that didn’t mean this battle was lost. In fact, it meant quite the opposite.

  THE LIVING DEAD

  One of the guardsmen, for what else could I call them in that moment, broke off to engage Paladin.

  My security chief was a burly, muscular man – over six feet tall, two hundred pounds, and with hair as dark as his eyes. He was the type most would think twice about even arguing with, especially with a combat knife in hand. Yet the guardsman faced him as confidently as if squaring off against a child.

  I took advantage of the opening in their defense to roll to my feet, countering the blows thrown my way even as I moved. Therein lay my true advantage.

  I’d been raised within the vampire nation, taught by its strictest taskmasters. I was intimately acquainted with the Golden Phalanx as well as other techniques taught to the elite guard. More importantly, I knew how to counter them.

  Before my foes could close in on me, I spun, sweeping my leg along the floor and kicking up a curtain of sand. It was a momentary diversion at best, useless against foes wearing helmets, but the instinct to protect one’s sight was a powerful thing and both my attackers paused to raise their hands against it.

  That was all I needed. A kick to his knee, followed by an eagle claw strike to the crotch, put one on the ground and out of the fight for the time being.

  The one who’d engaged Paladin broke off from their attack at the cry of his fellow. It was a mistake, allowing my security chief to step in and grapple them before they could compensate.

  Though the distraction was welcome, it was not long-lived. Paladin was formidable in his own right, but he was facing an opponent who – if I was right – vastly outclassed him with regards to fighting experience.

  A moment later, I was proven correct as my security chief was knocked to the ground stunned.

  Outnumbered again, I adopted a defensive stance, backing up so as to dare a glance at the periphery of the garden, noting those who’d remained on the sidelines, their weapons still raised. Despite their covered faces, their body language bespoke of far less surety of skill than those engaging me in unarmed combat – much closer to the girl Emilyn than to disciplined soldiers.

  It began to paint a picture.

  Could it be possible?

  The Magi had never been allies with the vampire nation. If anything, we’d tolerated each other, feigning neutrality where necessary, exerting influence over the other where possible. They’d looked down upon us as mere animals, predatory beasts to be culled. In turn, a great many of my kind had considered them a failed race on the decline, dying a slow death by entropy.

  But now we were on equal footing. Both races had been rendered powerless, mortal. Most Magi were now directionless, lost in a world in which they no longer held the advantage. As for the survivors of the vampire race, aside from myself I’d believed all that were left were children – those recently turned and thus able to return to whatever lives they had before being embraced by darkness.

  But if others like me had survived, those who’d experienced centuries of life, what did it mean if they were now allying themselves with former Magi?

  All of this went through my mind at the speed of thought, even as I stepped in to engage my foes again. I didn’t know what purpose this alliance served, but now that I knew how to counter their best moves, I intended to remedy that – through whatever means necessary.

  Out of the corner of my eye I noted my security chief once again rising. I opened
my mouth, prepared to tell him I wanted at least one of these interlopers taken alive, but his voice rang out first.

  “What the hell?!”

  Though Paladin’s shout of alarm didn’t cause me to lose focus, movement at the far end of the room caught my attention. I turned my head to see another of the intruding party enter the garden and immediately understood my security chief’s surprise.

  Whereas the foes we’d fought to this point were all human, the newcomer was most certainly not. Its silhouette was alien – tall, rail-thin, and with an oblong helmet covering its misshapen head. However, perhaps most telling was the second set of arms jutting from its abdomen.

  Though impossible to know for certain with it covered head to toe, it resembled one of the Huldra, an imp-like race that once hailed from beneath the Trollheimen mountains in Norway – former allies of the vampire nation.

  Interesting. I’d heard rumors that some extranormal creatures had survived the destruction of The Source, remaining on Earth instead of being shunted back to their originating planes. Supposedly, some had been trapped here, powerless in their corporeal forms. Before now, though, I’d seen no evidence that it was true.

  The Huldra lifted something over its head with two of its arms, a small rectangular object ... a laptop computer from the look.

  “The secondary objective,” it cried in a high-pitched voice. “I’ve secured it!”

  Secondary objective? What could that...

  The distraction was a costly one. A backhand caught me in the side of the head, sending me to the ground dazed. Fortunately, my combat instincts were razor sharp and I managed to roll out of my opponent’s reach before they could capitalize further on my inattention.

  As I reoriented myself, giving my head a moment to clear, I focused on the leader and realized in that instant this fight was over ... and I’d lost. Though I couldn’t see his face, his body language spoke volumes. He was weighing his options with regards to prolonging this battle.

  Even before he spoke, I understood the decision he’d made.