It took the rest of that day to get back into Frankfurt. As the sun started slipping below the horizon, Lash pulled the Land Rover off the 661 Autobahn running into the heart of the sprawling city and quickly into the Kaiserlei District, south of the Main River. Here he knew were a number of Ventru safe houses, each equipped with a garage. Hopefully they would not only have the supplies he needed to continue his quest for vengeance, but full garages as well. He needed to swap out the Land Rover in case Orin had told the Hand which vehicles had sat in the hunting lodges garage, or he was somehow observed leaving the hunting lodge property.
Orin; Lash could feel his teeth grit in impotent rage as he turned into the subdivision his memory told him was the location of the nearest safe house. Orin's betrayal was like acid on his mind, burning and searing its way through memories of better times, and twisting them into shallow mockeries of what they once were. He had trusted him with the lives of his sister and extended family. Only to have that bastard firmly paint the target on their backs for the Council's goons to shoot at.
Spotting the safe house's familiar lines, the big vampire brutally pushed his searing emotions aside to focus on the moment. He needed to have a cool head here; there was a damn good chance the Council had tortured out of a captured Ventru hierarch where their most valuable assets were located. Assets that would include safe houses and their contents.
It was common knowledge that the Ventru were centralized in and around Frankfurt. Knowing that, even if said hierach wasn't captured and tortured, their enemies would inevitably reason out that a good number of assets would also be located in and around the old human city. And that meant the Council would be combing the city for not only Ventru, but for those assets as well.
So it was with his Shiva drawn that Lash slowly eased out of his SUV just as the street lights flickered on, his eyes searching every shadow. Now that he knew the Hand wasn't above ambush tactics, any one of those shadows could be holding his death. The EMF armor that Mordecai had given him was useful against psionic energies and most kinds of small arms fire, but it wouldn't stop a .50 caliber vampire killer. Or a well-placed car'dieth, for that matter.
Closing the SUV's door behind him, he slid around the vehicle's front end and across the sidewalk. The sooner he got into the safe house, the better off he'd be. A quick glance to both sides and he was carefully moving forward, heading for the house's side entrance, which he could see from where he had been standing on the sidewalk.
Lash had was just about to the corner of the house that would've hidden him from the left hand side of the street when he caught it: motion, smooth and quick, through the shadows at the far end. Swinging around the corner to give himself cover, he leaned around the corner to focus on those shadows, the grip on his Shiva suddenly tight.
There, almost invisible in the growing twilight: several figures in dark tactical armor and gear, quickly moving from shadow to shadow, heavy assault rifles held ready. Their quick, economical moves said 'soldier' without the effortless motion that said 'Qos Viran'. That left only one possibility. One of the more powerful clans, like the Styr, had lent their personal military to the Council's efforts to purge the Ventru.
That tightened Lash's features further. Taking down arrogant incompetents like the Hands of the Council was one thing. Going up against one of the militaries from which the covert specialist Qos Viran were drawn was quite another. These vampires were professionals, and likely veterans of not only battles with other clan militaries, but with psionics as well. If he wasn't careful, there was a very real chance that they'd cut him into little pieces if he tried to take them out head on.
Easing back from the corner, he glanced down along the side of the house to the entrance. It was obvious the soldiers were advancing on the safe house. The question was: did he have enough time to get inside and retrieve what he needed before they were on him? He grimaced. He was out of supplies and had a hot vehicle. Which meant he had no choice; he had to try to get inside and get not only more supplies but another vehicle or he'd be exposed and without options.
Mind made up, he quickly darted to the entrance as fast and as quietly as all his considerable skill would allow. A quick code punched into the revealed pad, followed by a hand print, retinal scan and blood sample via micro-pipette and the door was sliding open to let him ease inside.
A pause in the entryway to quickly assess his surroundings as the door closed behind him, then he was moving into the house proper, wary and prepared, his Shiva in a two-handed grip. Being inside the safe house, unfortunately, was no longer a guarantee of safety, thanks in part to Orin's betrayal and the presence of the soldiers outside. For all he knew, it was already compromised. He could only hope that he'd be able to find what he needed before he was attacked.
It was a sound from near the building's rear that caught his attention as he was moving through the living space. One moment he was carefully heading towards an access point for the pantry. In the next Lash was frozen as a quiet rustling was picked up by his already honed sense of hearing.
A second hint of sound pointed towards the source being somewhere near the back of the building. Could it be other Ventru, taking advantage of the safe house's protection to hide? Or something else?
Lash's expression tightened as those thoughts stormed through his enraged mind. Unfortunately, as it was with these kinds of situations, there was only one way to find out. Renewing his grip on his high-powered weapon, the vigilant Qos Viran commander eased forward once more, this time intent on reaching the back of the house as quickly and quietly as possible.
They were huddled together in a storage area, a man, a woman and a pair of children. He could smell them before he could even come around the corner and see them. Humans: prickly sweet, their scent enough to make his stomach rumble with a hunger that hadn't been sated in days. And something else ... something nervous.
Now, why would they be nervous? Only humans that are acknowledged and recognized as familiars would've been granted access to a vampiric safe house. So, while they would be required to give up some of their blood as payment for the protection, they should've been feeling relatively safe here. Unless they were aware of something that Lash wasn't.
Easing around that final corner, he came face to face with them, clinging to each other as if anticipating the last moments of their life.
"Su'atha!" he barked in the vampiric tongue and they all quickly held up their heart hands to show the tattoo on the inside of the wrist that showed not only the glyph that marked which clan they were familiars to, but their blood type and DNA status as well.
As expected, all four were Ventru-claimed. Only Ventru-claimed familiars would've had their biometrics profiles in the clan database so they could access the safe house's entryway. Yet, as he stepped closer, he could smell a spike in their nervousness. Did they not see that he was Ventru?
That was when he heard it: the quiet sound of voices coming from a hidden communication device.
" ... hold him as long as you can," one of the voices said in the sinuous vampire tongue, hard and obviously giving a command. "We're almost there!"
What was this? Somebody was telling these humans to hold ... him? More treachery?? With a silent snarl, Lash leaned forward, intent on putting as many holes in the traitorous familiars as possible. Only to feel the hot flash of several high speed rounds punching through his body.
Grimacing at the pain, he spun around, Shiva ready.
"Die, you back-stabbing ..." he began before several more rounds slammed into his chest, each hitting with extra power, thanks to an overcharge of propellant. So much so, it was like each was a miniature train, smashing him back one step at a time until he was almost on top of the cowering familiars, his body armor and EM shielding notwithstanding.
"Quick!" the hard voice from the radio barked. "Stab him with the car'deith while he's stunned!"
One of the dimly-seen shapes filling the space he had just been in, started forward, the telltale glow of the radioactive blade in a gloved hand. 'Why don't they just shoot me in the head?" the staggered vampire wondered as he tried willing his hand holding the Shiva to come back up and squeeze the trigger. 'Why come in close with the car'deith and run the risk that I'd recover enough to turn it on them?'
It seemed like a risk well-trained soldiers, even ones as cowardly as these ones were, wouldn't want to take. Unless ...
'They're making an example of me!' he realized in a flash of insight. They wanted him to die by the ancient weapon, in common use thousands of years ago during the great vendettas fought between the clans, before the creation of the Council of the Night. Before the unification to face the psionics.
In that instant he knew, even as his strength left him and he sagged to a knee, his clothing heavy with his own blood. This had nothing to do with Aizea's command, or the alliance with Mordecai.
It was a vendetta killing.
"If this is to be a vendetta execution, I have the right to know which clan wishes Ventru gone," he gasped as the soldier, now visible in covert tactical gear, stepped within an arm's length of him. That close Lash could feel the burn from the stone blade's cold fire.
To his credit, the soldier actually hesitated as if thinking about telling him. Then the hard voice, its owner still lost in the gloom beyond the soldier, spoke up.
"You have your orders, soldier," he growled. "In the chest so he dies slow."
"I'm about to die, commander," Lash managed to say after throwing up a forestalling hand to keep the soldier from plunging the car'deith into his chest. "What harm is there in me knowing?"
"My master forbade it," the commander quickly replied, "in case you somehow survive."
Despite his failing strength, Lash had to fight off a cold smile of satisfaction. Good. It was fitting that he would meet his end with his enemies fearing him. No vampire could ask for more.
"Strike me then, soldier," he commanded. "Ingamon Lash of the Ventru is ready!"
Nodding slowly, respect in his eyes as he saw Lash unflinchingly prepare for the final blow, the soldier drew back his arm to bury the stone blade deep into Lash's broad chest. Only to shudder as his head exploded with a wet 'splot', spraying a surprised Lash with brains and bits of skull.
Robbed of its head, the body toppled forward. Only reflex got the wounded Lash out of its way, and only luck kept the car'deith, falling from a limp hand, from striking him. It hid the floor point down with a heavy 'thunk', the weapon's stone blade stabbing into the wood nearly 3 centimeters before coming to a halt a handspane from Lash's leg. Then the darkened room in front of him was exploding with the muted flares of a pair of silenced weapons.
Unlike the soldiers, the newcomer had no compunction about not shooting another vampire in the head. Each muzzle flash announced another head exploding even as the soldiers twisted in place in a vain attempt to return fire. Then, before even a handful of shots could be fired in reply, the last soldier, a flash of rank on his shoulder marking him as the squad's commander, was toppling bonelessly to the ground to spill what was left of his brains onto the hardwood.
"Who do I have to thank for this timely intervention?" Lash asked through gritted teeth into the ringing silence the squad's obliteration left behind as he tried to reach for his utility pouch filled with anti-coagulants.
A slender form stepped free of the shadows, silenced mini-machine guns in its hands, the muzzles oozing vapor and smoke. They were clothed in unmarked black from head to toe, including a hood and a mask to hide their features but they couldn't hide the cut of the uniform from Lash's keen eye.
"M'tada," he said, grimacing. "Which Lilith do I owe a debt to?"
M'tada: the personal guard of the rare vampire queens known as Liliths. It was by a Lilith's word that Lash and his Qos Viran were thrust into the hellstorm that was the battle to keep the Brotherhood from achieving world domination. So it seemed fitting that a Lilith would be responsible for pulling him out of this predicament.
"I come not as M'tada," a woman's voice, muffled by the mask she wore, replied. A hand reached up to pull away the mask to reveal the finely sculpted features of a beautiful highborn vampiress. One that looked strikingly familiar.
"But as your sister."
Lash's eyes flew wide in surprise.
"Ingrid?? You live?" he gasped.
"Of course I live, you idiot," she quickly replied before dropping to a knee in front of him to peer at his wounds. "It'd take more that the incompetence of the Hands of the Council to kill a Lash, as you yourself have proven." Ingrid's perfect brow furrowed. "But it would seem these nestari nearly did, big brother."
"It was a trap," Lash managed to growl. "I needed supplies and another vehicle. The familiars drew me here."
"I won't chastise you, Ing," Ingrid quickly replied, lifting her eyes to look into his face. "Your righteous anger and blood hunger clouded your judgment, making you vulnerable. Here, let's take care of some of that, shall we?" Then she was lifting her weapon and, with four quick shots, killed the four humans still cowering in their corner.
"They may have been turned from their vows, but at least their blood is clean," she said with a frown as the humans flopped against each other to bleed over themselves and the floor, filling the air with the salty tang of human blood. Smelling it, Lash turned towards the humans almost against his will as the blood hunger surged through him like a living thing.
"A blood meal would be satisfying," he admitted before looking over his shoulder at Ingrid. "But this safe house is compromised. I won't have the time to heal, even with the blood. More nestari will be on us shortly."
A thin smile touched Ingrid's lips.
"Always the soldier, eh, big brother?" The smile vanished. "No, you won't because yes, you're right. Four more squads are closing in on this location, with orders to blow the building if they can't kill you outright." She reached into her uniform to draw out a finger-long vial with a bite tab. "So you're going to take this first, before you drain these four humans dry."
Taking the vial in a trembling hand, Lash stared at it.
"What is it?"
"Werewolf blood," Ingrid revealed, smoothly standing to turn back towards the front of the house, her weapons coming back up. "It'll kickstart your healing. The blood from the familiars will take care of the rest."
Ah, that made sense. The potent mix of hormones, endorphins, and bio-chemicals that turned werewolf blood into a powerful soup that fueled lycanth strength, robustness, and speed would accelerate his already impressive healing speed by several orders of magnitude. He had already witnessed its effectiveness in doing so when he gave some to Mordecai months ago to help the psylord heal from his encounter with Greymane's pack.
Without further hesitation Lash bit down on the bite tab and felt a spurt of warm fluid into his mouth. Fluid that sent a surge of energy instantly washing through him. Then he was throwing his head back in a silent howl as the werewolf blood triggered a storm of sensation through his body.
The storm was still making his body twitch wildly when, a moment later, the injured vampire felt his strength return to the point where he would move. He instantly used it to twist towards the familiars and, with the blood hunger twisting into the lust, he fell on their still warm bodies and began feeding.
"I hate to hurry a vampire so desperately in need of a drink, but ..." Ingrid began as she could hear more soldiers breach the front door.
"I hear them," Lash said, standing beside his sister to wipe the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand before licking that blood off. Already he could feel the werewolf blood mending his wounds, the effort sustained by his recent blood meal. In a few more moments he would be fully operational.
"And as much as I want to cut more of these bastards down, we need to withdraw."
"Agreed," Ingrid said with a nod before looking over her shoulder at him. "We go through the garage and get one of the vehicles there."
"Go," he directed, hefting the Shiva back into position and scooping up his backpack to sling its carrying strap over his shoulder. "I'm right behind you."