Kyle's shredded body slipped from my grasp. It was no good to me now. The proof of that was in the burning pain spreading as more bullets ripped into me.
One hit me in the neck.
My blood fountained out like a ribbon. I watched it arc away from me, beginning to mist as it spread too wide for the individual droplets to maintain a cohesive flow.
Like before, I felt each droplet's magnetic pull.
I was so focused on that stream of blood that I saw nothing else. Not even Mason, leering just in front of me as he jerked hard on the trigger. Or Frank pulling a stake from the sheath on his hip. Holding it like a dagger.
Waiting for the moment he could drive in and spear my heart with it.
In my mind, there was only me.
And my blood.
I sucked a breath and, in a moment of panicked desperation, I reached for it in the same way I reached for my Meridians when they weren't tattered.
There was a rush in my ears like the flapping of a thousand wings.
I wrapped my awareness around my spurting blood like a fist around a sword hilt and let loose a roar of absolute defiance.
It was my blood!
It was a part of me.
I felt a heavy pressure in my heart.
A pressure which built swiftly. Too swiftly!
It surged inside my chest on a burning wave. I let out a strangled groan as I raced to push my awareness back inside in hope of containing the inevitable eruption.
Unable to prevent it, my heart exploded like a grenade.
The blast tore through not just my flesh, but through my soul.
John shrieked; "Now, Frank!"
And Frank dove for my chest, the stake streaking in his fist.
My world was on fire.
Terror blew through me as I assumed I was on fire. Assumed I was being ashed once again. Rage pumped past the terror as I bared my fangs and railed at Death.
I refused to die.
Not here.
Not yet.
Revenge must come first.
Time froze as my fingers wrapped around Frank's wrist. His eyes bulged. His brow creased in horror.
Then agony as I yanked on his forearm to splinter bones. How many times had I done this since waking? Did no one wear bracers anymore?
"Frank!" Mason tried to lunge to his left to get a bead on me, his gun held high and tight.
But it was too late.
I knew what I could do now. It was so simple. Why hadn't I done this before? I couldn't find a single fragmented memory which said I even knew how.
Maybe it really was new to me.
I let Frank see the glint of my fangs as my blood began to move.
It lifted from the ground. It detached from the walls.
It flew through the air like crimson dragons.
I began to laugh as John and Mason shouted and tried to bat it with their guns or stab at it with their stakes.
But every drop was mine.
No matter how they broke them up, the ribbons of blood still snaked towards me with an effortless determination before plunging back into my body through the countless holes in my flesh.
I roared with laughter as I felt it sink into the veins of my Bloodline. I shivered as a crawling sensation, like ants scurrying, rippled through my body.
I didn't need to look down to feel the holes closing.
"Jesus," Frank breathed. "You ain't no vamp. What the fuck are you?"
"A predator," I purred. "And you are all my prey!"
I pulled the man into a tight grip and tore savagely at his throat. His blood jetted out and, although it was a waste of blood, I regretted nothing.
I wanted him to die screaming.
And as the first of his shrieks rang through the stairwell, I was pleased with his cooperation.
"Fuck!" Mason squealed, snatching John by the arm. "Run!"
Frank managed a weak gurgle. "Help me!"
But they weren't listening. They scrambled down the stairs, abandoning their friend to his fate.
Warm blood splashed into my stomach, adding fuel to an engine which was working furiously to rebuild my heart so it could in turn feed my body. The blood I'd regathered was sitting in my veins, unmoving.
It left me numb.
Cold.
My heart was mostly pulp, but it was knitting itself back together.
But it felt different.
Very different.
I stepped away from Frank's corpse and over Kyle's. Mason and John were now a few levels below. I snarled at them and leapt down after them, ignoring the strange numb sensation that had me feeling like I was running through ethereal fog.
"It's coming!" John cried, looking back and seeing me not far behind.
"Dale! Dale, we need to get outta here!" Mason shouted into a radio on his shoulder. "Repeat, get the fuck out!"
A burst of static answered him.
"Fuck!"
I bounded down, feeling a distant thrill as I drew closer with every second.
Bullets screamed past my ear, fired blindly as they attempted to slow me down.
But they couldn't slow me down.
Not now.
"Where do you think you're going?" I hissed at them. "This isn't a market. You can't come and go as you please!"
My fingers clawed into the back of John's collar.
"Mason!" His voice was shrill as I loomed over him. "He got me! Help!"
Mason paused.
Lifted his gun.
Paused again.
Indecision twisted his expression into a guilty grimace.
"Fuck," he spat. "Sorry, John!"
And kept running.
"Mason! Mason, you bastard-" His voice cut off in an agonised squawk as my fangs tore into his throat.
I drained him fast, then snapped his neck with a quick twist.
Below, Mason tumbled down the stairs, shouting into his radio.
Above, more gunfire.
My Renfields were fighting.
Maybe dying.
I considered letting Mason go.
But the thought disgusted me. He'd caused me pain. And, even though that pain had fully awakened my Bloodline, intent mattered.
"No way can you live," I growled, diving down after him. "Your blood is mine!"
"Dale!" Mason howled into his radio. "Dale, fucking respond! My team is dead! Frank's dead! Dale! Respond!"
Static burped back at him.
"They're not the only ones who are dead," I hissed, throwing myself down the last few stairs which separated us.
Whirling, he brought the gun up. Finger pulling the trigger.
A couple hit me in the shoulder and chest.
But most cracked into the concrete behind me.
He threw the gun down.
Whipped out a stake.
"Come on then, you bloodsucking piece of shit!"
I didn't feel fast.
But I was still quicker than a mortal.
I charged into him, batting his arm aside with a contemptuous flick of my hand.
Desperately he tried to stab me again.
This time, I snatched both his arms by his wrists and leaned in close enough to smell garlic on his breath. Wincing, I wondered if it was the stink which repulsed vampires.
It was certainly repulsing me.
He started kicking, his heavy boots slamming into my thigh. But the numbness crawling through my body prevented me from feeling anything.
I'd probably feel it soon, though, I thought. My heart felt like it was frothing violently in my chest. Any second now, I knew it would begin to beat again.
And then I expected the numbness to retreat and the pain to return.
Mason struggled in my grip, and I let him struggle.
I let him try to wrench himself free.
I let him flex and strain.
Until the fierce glow of determination died with his hope.
"Dale," he whined. A plaintive and fragile sound. "Where the fuck are you guys?"
Static.
"How many of you are there?"
"Go to Hell," he groaned. "Just kill me. I ain't telling you shit."
"Hmm." I tested the strength of his bones by putting pressure on his forearms. "Are you sure? I can snap your arms to start. Then we can explore every bone in your mortal body."
Spittle slithered out of his mouth as he grit his teeth against the pain.
"Ain't telling you shit!"
"Very well," I said. More gunfire crackled overhead. "I will just go and see for myself."
"Dale's gonna fuck you up, asshole."
I grinned at him. "I very much doubt that."
Then I lunged, clamping savagely on his throat. His blood erupted in a heavy wave as I gorged on him. There was a bitter taste to his blood which I didn't like, but I knew my body would soon need as much of it as I could get.
He cursed me as he died.
Over and over until each word was a feeble gasp.
As I dropped his corpse, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I was drenched in blood now.
Panting, I closed my eyes and prepared to push my awareness inward.
But then I heard a scream.
Vela!