The Devil's Wolf

Cael burst out of the stairwell, his wings spreading to their full extension, the feather flaring and catching the light of the glowing sword as he swung it double handed. A spray of blood struck him, catching in his feathers, little droplets of red against the white as he danced into the battle with a roar that raised the hair along the back of Ashlynn's neck in it's brutal savagery.

The stairwell opened into a large foyer which seethed with motion and screamed with the pain and anguish of the fallen as vampires and humans battled for their lives. Ashlynn pressed herself against the stairwell door unprepared for the sheer overwhelming barbarism of the scene, and unable to tell friend from foe. She wondered how Cael did so, or if the devil simply did not care and carved into anyone he could reach, for that was how it seemed to her those first moments of the onslaught.

As her brain adjusted to the tangle of limbs and weaponry, she was able to watch her devil battle. She had never seen someone fight with a sword before, let alone with sword and wings. Cael's movements were beautiful to behold, in an utterly terrifying, deadly way, as he used his wings to propel himself amongst the combatants, to block them, and to lift himself as he leapt over their retaliatory attacks.

Bullets ricocheted off a glowing golden shield around him, sparking white and silver. He had used his shield before against Elior, she remembered, and its outer edges burnt the skin. A man in army fatigues shrieked and recoiled as he discovered that for himself, his uniform smoking and melting away from his flesh, and his skin bubbling with blisters. The smell of burnt meat joined the indescribable stench of the brawl.

She would never have thought that fights stunk, but between the burnt meat, the metallic bite of magic, the scent of blood and flesh, the smoke of spent bullets, and bowels loosened in death, the smell had her pressing her hand to her mouth and gagging.

Cael only attacked the humans in uniform, she realized, with admiration for her mate's logic as she watched him efficiently carve his way through the melee. He left the vampires combatants to sort themselves out, taking out only the obvious enemy. There was simply no competition for him in the fight, she quickly ascertained, between the magic of his shield and the slice of his sword, no one got near enough to him to harm him, and any who got in his way died, horribly. She flinched and cast up a shield as a man shot at her. "That's rude," she snarled and cast an ice spell at him, freezing him.

The attack knocked her out of her bewildered inaction, and she sent off a volley of spells aiming for those in uniform although doing so jarred against the childhood teachings of her parents - people in uniforms were supposed to be the good guys, the people you sought out for aid when in trouble, not the enemy.

The world had gone topsy-turvy, she thought grimly.

It seemed to take only moments until the foyer fell into stillness, the bodies thick on the ground, and those that remained standing swaying with exhaustion with a sense of disbelief startlement that they had survived the fight for their lives. "Who the f-k are you?" A strong jawed, shaved headed vampire man demanded of Cael. From his build and the way he was dressed, he was a body guard or some type of building security, Ashlynn thought.

"Elior's mate, sort of," the un-glamoured devil flicked out his wings, casting off a spray of blood from feathers more red than white. "One of them." He inspected his wings, preening the feathers, extending and then flicking them again to shed the wetness of blood, heedless of those around him that he splattered in doing so. "F-king wet," he complained.

Cael looked as if he had showered in blood, his face masked by it, his hair darkened and wet with it, and his clothing unrecognizable beneath it. The vampire seemed completely baffled by the red-coated gory winged man before him. Cael nodded over to Ashlynn helpfully. "Elior's other mate."

"Hi," she said inanely, still shocked by the violence of the battle. "I am Ashlynn and this is Cael."

The vampire looked at Ashlynn. "I spoke to you on the phone," he realized, recognising her voice.

"Yes," she said recovering her equilibrium and picking her way through the sludge of body parts to where the two men stood. "I told you we were coming. If you flick blood on me," she cautioned Cael as he stretched out his wings again. "I will make sure you don't come tonight."

The devil lowered his wings cautiously. "It feels heavy," he complained. "I need to flick it off."

"Over near the wall then," she pointed, and he grumbled as he obeyed.

"Elior has no mate," the vampire was uncertain despite his declaration and confused by the interaction between her and Cael. "Let alone two. One of which is winged."

"He has been a busy boy," she replied, deactivating the amulet. She saw the vampires react as the glamour dropped and wondered what she had looked like with it on. "Who are you?" Not that their names meant anything to her, but she reasoned that if she could relay them to Elior, they would mean something to him.

"Alister," he moved closer to her, one wary eye on Cael who snarled slightly in warning from his position near the wall, the spray behind him spreading as he flicked out his wings, like a snow angel or a rorschach inkblot painted in blood. He inhaled. "You smell of Elior," he decided, moving back slightly. "And werewolf and warlock. Who are you?" He was intrigued.

"Ah," she did not think announcing her name in a roomful of injured, hungry vampires was a wise decision. "Let's discuss that later, shall we? For now, Serena's up on the fifth floor, trying to get a message out on social media about Caleb Roth so Elior will know who his enemy is. There is an injured vampire and his harem in the stairwell. Not sure where they were heading. And there is an injured vampire in the fifth nest basement, needing help."

"Serena's alive?" Alister's relief was visible. "We need to retreat," he added, looking through the glass that fronted the building.

Their view was obscured by the vehicles parked haphazardly on the street and mounting the pavement and stairs, but she could see the whirl of red and blue lights and movement, the slide of shadow an ominous prediction of further attack pending.

"There are reinforcements on the street. When they realize that we have won, they will send more in." His phone began to ring, and he retrieved it from his pocket. "Yes? Serena," his tone was joyful. "What?!" His eyes went to Ashlynn. "Yes, she is here. Unharmed. Yes, you are right. We will take the passages. Sound the retreat."

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The lights overhead dulled, and she saw the vampires react, heading in unison for the stairwell door.

Cael winced. "Awful noise."

"What noise?" She wondered.

Alister looked at her in surprise. "I thought you were a werewolf. The siren frequency is outside of human range."

"I am not a full wolf," she explained.

"Well, anyway, follow us," he said, gesturing with his head to where the vampires bottle necked in the door. "The siren sounds throughout the building, letting anyone who remains to know to head to the subterranean tunnels between the nests."

"Ah," she realized that the vampire with the blood slaves in the stairwell had been heading there. "That makes sense. Cael," she held out a hand to him, and felt the wetness of blood, warmed from his skin, as he put his free hand in hers. "What is he?" Alister regarded the devil with reservation. "I have never seen anything like him. He is not a gargoyle."

"Gargoyle," Cael sneered.

"It is a long story," Ashlynn sighed.

The stairwell led down into the basement, and she heard Cael mutter unhappily as the passage pressed in on his wings and she had to release his hand so they could walk single file, the broad shouldered and winged devil taking up the entire span of the passageway.

The lighting was minimal, vampires' eyes being suited to darkness, and she had to use the walls to aid her, the glow from Cael's sword behind her shifting constantly and causing her to mistrust her steps.

"Who is Caleb Roth?" She asked Alister.

"Caleb Roth is one of the few born vampires of the pure lines remaining after Lucian decimated the hierarchy during Armageddon. Elior's bloodline is superior, but only just. We had thought Caleb an ally," his voice was grim. "You are sure that he is behind this?"

"I saw him with my own eyes," Alister replied. "He stepped out of the elevator as the human's military entered the foyer, and they allowed him to pass out into the street. He was upstairs in a meeting with Serena before everything happened. Where is Elior? We need him."

"In a safe place," she replied evasively, not trusting him enough with any further detail as to Elior's location. "What about the people in the fifth nest?"

"We are greatly weakened," Alister sounded regretful. "And if Caleb is with the enemy, they will know of these passages. We dare not risk lingering in them."

"We can go," Cael offered. "And rescue the people from the fifth nest."

"You are enjoying yourself," she accused. "And want to hack more people up with your sword."

"Yes," he was unrepentant. "I have not had this much fun in centuries. My mother never would let me participate in the games."

"What games?" She wondered.

"I know what you are, whose child you are," Alister said to Ashlynn before Cael could answer. "Serena told me what your blood does. We cannot risk you falling into enemy hands. We will go to the stronghold, rest, feed, and regain our strength. Once we have reunited you with Elior at a safe location, I will lead a counter-attack. It is the logical course of action."

"You have been talking to my father," she replied, irked. "He would say the same thing."

"He is a sensible man, then."

"I propose we retake all the buildings connected to these passages," Cael declared. "I can take the humans single-handedly if you are too cowardly to assist, vampire."

"I am beginning not to like you," Alister grumbled.

"Now you really do sound like Raiden," Cael grinned.