Black Dog (33 page)

Ezekiel
had
claimed right from the beginning that he might kill all the black dogs in the world by himself. Watching him now, Alejandro almost believed he might.

All this Alejandro saw before the intensifying press of battle claimed his attention and he lost track of the other Dimilioc wolves.

He did not know how many black dogs and moon-bound shifters had been destroyed in the first clash – a great many, it seemed to him. And a great many more died after that first attack. Many of those were Vonhausel's true black dogs, which he would surely find impossible to replace.

The enemy should not have been taken so thoroughly by surprise. That occurred to Alejandro during a pause in the battle. He was contemptuous of Dimilioc's enemies – those enemies deserved nothing but contempt. If Vonhausel had not been so entirely focused on destroying Natividad's mandala that he forgot to watch for enemies; if he had realized someone might lead the Dimilioc wolves through the light of the anchoring cross; if the black dogs of his shadow pack had worked together against the Dimilioc wolves, especially Ezekiel – they might have won already instead of fighting and dying, each alone, right in the midst of their fellows.

But because of the mistakes their enemies had made, the Dimilioc wolves were going to destroy the shadow pack. Alejandro knew it, he felt it, he was swept along in a wild triumphant murderous fury that carried them all with it like a spring flood pouring down an arroyo…

Then Natividad's mandala cracked straight through. The magic infused in the mandala trembled and gave, and the mandala itself cracked, and the rest of the magic poured out of it into the air – gone, lost, and every house and shop that lay along its line burst into flames. The earth itself cracked open, burning, along the line where it had run.

Alejandro heard his own high, piercing shriek of terror, which slid down and down in pitch until it became a roar of rage before he understood that he was the one shrieking. Only the lifeblood of a Pure woman could have shattered Natividad's mandala so abruptly, and he knew, he
knew
, as soon as it broke, that Vonhausel had somehow gotten to Dimilioc and stolen Natividad out of its shelter and brought her here and poured her blood out in the snow so that it would run out across the mandala,
y prender fuego a la sangre
, he had called up his shadow and set her blood afire, and the mandala had broken because she was
dead
…

But then Grayson roared, and Alejandro whirled around and saw the body of a Pure woman, flung down and discarded at the foot of the burning cross, with the yellow-eyed silhouette of Vonhausel himself looming over it, blackly massive against the light and the snow, wreathed in smoke, fire glowing in his gaping jaws behind his coal-black fangs. But Alejandro also saw, even in that first glimpse, that it was not after all
Natividad
's
body that lay crumpled and broken at Vonhausel's feet. Vonhausel had brought some other Pure woman to this place; he must have found her and stolen her from her home and then kept her, who knew how long – kept her in reserve as a weapon and a tool. Now he threw back his head and howled, a long singing cry of hatred and triumph and fury, and his few remaining black dogs and moon-bound curs howled with him, swept up by the heavy moon-drawn tide of his killing rage.

Alejandro, furious at the death of that other Pure woman, was nevertheless so consumed by violent relief that she was not Natividad that he nearly forgot that Vonhausel was still there; that the battle was not ended; that the mandala was broken and all the town laid open to deadly enemies.

Then Ezekiel went past Alejandro in a silent, intent rush.

But Vonhausel did not stand to fight the Dimilioc
verdugo
. He whirled about and charged straight into the town, sweeping the remnants of his shadow pack along in his wake, racing along the path laid down by one of the crossbars of the burning mandala, heading for the center of town. What he meant to do there, Alejandro could not imagine; he had thought Vonhausel's attack on Lewis merely a tactic to forge all his wild undisciplined strays into a real pack and maybe to draw out the Dimilioc wolves to a battle where they might be destroyed, but if that was so, why did Vonhausel not rally his black dogs and fight? He thought that Vonhausel ran, not in flight but with some target in mind. His black dogs ran with and alongside him; his moon-bound shifters scattered to hunt through the town, testing the strength of any home where human prey sheltered.

Ezekiel pursued Vonhausel,
never looking aside, utterly indifferent to the enemy black dogs who crowded him from either side. His very indifference frightened them, so they would not close with the
verdugo
–
or maybe they had watched him fight, as Alejandro had, and that had understandably frightened them.

Then Grayson leaped away after Ezekiel, and Zachariah followed him, and belatedly Alejandro and Ethan and Thaddeus, and Keziah and her sister – Alejandro could not see Harrison or Benedict anywhere, but there was no time to look for them. His black dog shadow wanted to strike at any nearby enemy, wanted to fight, struggle, kill. But none of the other Dimilioc wolves turned aside to grapple with enemies. They all raced after Ezekiel, who pursued Vonhausel. No one turned either to the right or to the left; they went straight over fences and, almost as quickly, up and over houses – once Alejandro heard a human's terrified scream from one of the homes they passed, but Ethan ran at his left and Thaddeus at his right and he did not turn to look.

The church at the center of Lewis, the heart of Natividad's mandala, was burning. Like all Catholic churches, it had been made of stone expressly to withstand hellfire and then every stone had been blessed against demonic malice. Even so, it burned. The heat had broken out the windows; shards of colored glass glittered across the snow: red and purple, blue and gold, reflecting the hot light of the flames that roared through the open windows and crawled across the vaulted roof and charred the stones of the wall black.

The people who had been sheltering in the church were now huddling in the surrounding streets, staring up at the snow hissing into the flames. No one was trying to put out the fire, maybe because it was obviously too late or maybe because they knew that hellfire would irrevocably corrupt a church – or maybe because they knew the fire was not their biggest problem. They were turning toward the onrushing black dogs, but they moved so slowly – they looked like prey even to Alejandro, though he remembered even in the midst of bloodlust and battle fury that his own sister had made her mandala to shelter these people and would not want them torn down, torn apart, strewn across these streets
en
fragmentos ensangrentado
…
Fury poured through Alejandro like a substance with weight, with a presence of its own. His shadow thickened around him, dense and bloody, so that the whole world took on a crimson hue.

Vonhausel, black as pitch, surrounded by a miasma of smoke and fury, rushed toward the gathered humans. They scattered, but too slowly, like prey, like penned sheep. Vonhausel struck left and right among them – human screaming sounded so different from the dying screams of black dogs; their screams were sweeter and more satisfying. Their blood would also be sweet. For an instant, before he caught himself and remembered that he was Dimilioc and had a human brother, Alejandro wanted to turn on them himself.

Some of the humans, not such helpless sheep as the rest, were shooting, but either they did not hit Vonhausel or they were not using silver ammunition, or both. Vonhausel did not turn aside but raced straight toward the burning church; he had some aim in mind, but Alejandro could not tell what it was–

Ezekiel caught him before he reached the church.

The yellow-eyed black dog had no choice but to whirl around to meet Ezekiel's rush. The impact of their meeting seemed to shake the earth. They tore at each other, a blur of bulk and flashing claws and snapping jaws; the bitter scents of ash and black ichor filled the air; they were locked in a battle that had suddenly become not merely a fight but also a duel. Vonhausel's remaining black dogs crouched in a semicircle along one side of the street, all of them watching with avid, burning eyes.

The Dimilioc wolves matched them along the other side of the circle. Both Harrison and Benedict
were
missing, and though Alejandro would have said Dimilioc had been winning the battle, wasn't there a word for a victory so hard-won it destroyed the victor? But Alejandro could not remember that word either in English or Spanish.

The townspeople had mostly fled, which was the best thing they could do, though where they could go, with the church destroyed, Alejandro did not know; but he did not really care, either, and forgot them at once. Only a scattering remained, armed with their useless guns, but not shooting; they covered the retreat of the rest and maybe wanted to fight, but the man leading them kept them from shooting, wisely avoiding the attention of Vonhausel's black dogs. And even those were retreating slowly, which was also wise.

To Alejandro's amazement and fury, he saw that Vonhausel was matching Ezekiel. The black dog was heavy, strong, powerfully muscled and extraordinarily fast, even faster than Ezekiel – then Alejandro finally remembered that of course the Dimilioc
verdugo
had come into this battle already tired and injured.
Then
he saw that Vonhausel was not merely matching Ezekiel, but
over
matching him. Vonhausel took injuries fearlessly and they closed instantly – he somehow seemed to rid himself of wounds without needing to shift to his human form, which was impossible, but it was happening. Alejandro understood suddenly that Ezekiel might actually lose this fight, and with it the battle, and maybe the whole war…

Zachariah, too, saw Ezekiel's danger. Ignoring the conventions of the duel, with a cry that began as a bellowing roar and scaled up and up into piercing shriek of rage, he flung himself forward to attack Vonhausel.

The leader of the black dogs spun about as though to meet Zachariah's rush, but this was a feint, for he whipped right around and struck Ezekiel instead. And this time Ezekiel had mistaken his enemy, for he did not quite evade the blow. Vonhausel ripped claws right up through his belly and then on the backstroke tore out his throat, and Ezekiel, driven for once involuntarily into human form, collapsed to his hands and knees in a spray of ichor and blood. But though Ezekiel shifted so fast and so completely that he survived those terrible wounds, even he was not able to call his shadow back immediately, but was left helpless before his enemy.

Vonhausel did not pause to savor his enemy's defeat, but struck again in a blur of speed, meaning to finish Ezekiel immediately. But Zachariah crashed into him before he could touch the
verdugo
, and immediately the two were locked in a tight blur. Thaddeus lunged to tear into that battle, Ethan a beat behind him, and then all of Vonhausel's black dogs surged forward, and the Dimilioc wolves rushed to meet them, and Alejandro found himself fighting two black dogs who were both larger and heavier than he was, with a shifter harassing him from behind.

If his opponents had worked together, Alejandro might have died then, but one got in the other's way and they turned on each other, snarling, and then Grayson was beside him, taking advantage of the black dogs' distraction to kill them both with efficient speed before lunging past, with a deep, guttural snarl of loathing, to hurl himself into a thick knot of enemies.

Alejandro followed the Master, or tried to – Grayson had disappeared into the melee. Alejandro could not find Ethan or Thaddeus or any Dimilioc wolf – he glimpsed Keziah, cutting a deadly swath through enemy black dogs, Amira behind her, and leaped toward them…

The church collapsed, and for a moment all the fighting ceased in the overpowering roar of falling stones and fiery timbers. Then Vonhausel leaped up out of the battle, onto the smoldering rubble. He howled, a long savage sound of hatred and triumph, nothing at all like the howl of a wolf. All around the burning ruins of the church, his black dogs flung back their heads and answered, and, as though in response to their cries, the burning earth cracked open below the ruined church.

Grayson moved forward, crimson-eyed, heavy-shouldered, his fury as dense and implacable as his shadow. He did not answer Vonhausel's howl, but stalked him, head low, smoke trickling from his jaws. Then Grayson gathered himself and bounded up onto the ruins of the church toward his enemy. His power spread out around him, forcing the shadows of lesser black dogs back and down.

Vonhausel snarled, a low sound that ached with fury and frustrated hatred. But he leaped from his high perch, skidding down the opposite side of the piled rubble. His black dogs scattered back and away from the Dimilioc Master, who stared around at them contemptuously.

Once he had ceded control of the ruined church, however, Vonhausel did not continue to flee. More black dogs – an impossible number – were even now sliding out of the flames of the church, flinging themselves up from the cracked and broken earth. Alejandro counted Vonhausel's
callejeros
twice and then again, and although he came up with different numbers each time, he was sure there were more than thirty. This seemed impossible, but when he counted a third time, he counted thirty-two enemy black dogs.

Against those numbers, even Grayson hesitated. Alejandro looked for, but still could not find, either Harrison or Benedict, and now he could not see Zachariah, either, or Amira. He could not believe Zachariah had been killed – he could not believe Dimilioc had lost both Zachariah and Harrison – but neither could he see them anywhere among the living, though he rose on his hind legs to search.