Her impromptu flight ended abruptly as she slammed into a girder against the far wall. Samara felt ribs snap as she collided, still clutching the Repository, but given her other injuries, those were probably the least of her worries. It took a moment to free herself, time she could ill afford, though Kalypso’s final moments had forced Azrael and the security team to detour around the shattered compartments and plasma fires now roaring behind her. With any luck, the blast had taken some of her pursuers with it, but she had to keep moving. Klaxons wailed as she stumbled away, struggling to put distance between them.

She found a maintenance tube and slid down the ladder, braking to a halt two levels down as she doubled back, trying to get behind them. This section of the complex wasn’t nearly as deserted, forcing her to tuck the Repository in tight under her arm and bash her way through the throng, though the chaos from the explosion and blaring alarms helped mask her efforts to disappear, though a handful realized something was wrong about her. It would slow the security team down, but it was likely someone was already reporting her position.

Samara stumbled, staggering into a hatchway as she pressed her hand against her side. It came away dark red, staining her clothing. Even with Guardian’s improvements, she couldn’t keep this up forever.

She found another ladder and climbed, crawling out of the tube on the next level. If she could just rest for a few minutes, gather her thoughts and come up with a strategy, but given the situation, a reprieve was unlikely. She shot a quick glance skyward. Unless…

Grasping one of the overhead conduits, Samara pulled herself up, losing herself in the warren of piping runs, ventilation ducts, and electrical connections. Wedging the Repository into a safe location, she scanned the area for pursuit. It was clear for the moment, but that wouldn’t last long.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was coming... and shifted.

----------------------------------------

The teams fanned out as they entered the workspace floor. Their orders were explicit; Samara was to be taken alive at all costs. That, and the damage from the blast, complicated things. They’d holstered their issued weapons at Azrael’s orders, carrying with them instead non-lethal electroshock variants. He had fully briefed them on just how dangerous their quarry was, convincing them that anything less than lethal was ineffective against her. It would likely require multiple hits to take her down, assuming they worked at all.

Wending their way through the equipment-filled maintenance area as klaxons sounded the alarm, the professionals were still as mist and silent as ghosts. Their heads were on the swivel, sweeping left and right, alert for even the tiniest movement.

Unfortunately, none of the team were looking in the right direction as an arm came down from the ceiling, yanking one of the security officers off his feet and into the rafters before he could even yelp.

It didn’t take long for his disappearance to be noticed.

“Where’s Kaiser?” one shooter blurted out. “He was right here…”

They searched frantically for their missing comrade, but he had vanished without a trace. Placing a hurried call to the individual running the op, Azrael appeared on the scene moments later.

“Seal the hatches,” he ordered. “Nothing goes in or out.” He began his own search, sniffing out his prey, as a smile slowly appeared on his face.

“You’re wounded, Samara,” he grinned, “I can taste your blood in the air. Come out and end this game.”

Silence.

Azrael shook his head. “If I have to dismantle this station piece by piece, I’ll do it,” he warned.

Still nothing.

The assassin sighed. “So be it.” Turning to the team lead, he said, “She’s here somewhere. Find her, and then bring her to me.”

The officer nodded, gesturing as he moved his team forward. They peeled off left and right, covering the blind spots while they searched.

It took less than two minutes before they heard the first scream. The team didn’t hesitate; opening up as they raked the bulkheads and ceilings, taking down two of their own in the panicked fusillade even while Azrael shouted at them to cease fire.

“Who fired that first shot? Report, goddamnit!” Azrael snarled, as one by one they denied being responsible, only for them to realize there was another member missing.

“Vesta... she took Vesta…” one officer whispered in horror, even as they saw to their wounded.

“Shut up!” he shouted. “She’s not the boogeyman! She’s one person!” Azrael glared, daring them to argue, though no one was willing to meet his gaze. “She’s unarmed and wounded, on unfamiliar ground. Now find her and take her, goddamn it!”

Yet another scream whipped them around, even as they watched another team member being pulled into the rafters.

“There! Fire!” Azrael howled as the team opened up once more, their electroshock weapons causing sparks to arc among the conduits as they fired at the overhead. Leading his officers, they charged ahead, zeroing in on Samara’s location, as they moved to position themselves in a tight cordon that no one could escape from.

Just as half a dozen objects fell from the ceiling, clattering onto the deck.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Those closest had just enough time to identify the threat as the liberated flash-bang grenades exploded in their face, the dazzling bursts of light and deafening blasts disorienting the team and leaving them staggering, even as a lone figure dropped to the deck and loped away, vaulting over the barrier and into the next compartment.

“After her!” Azrael screamed, as the officers struggled to comply, still reeling from the aftereffects of the grenades. That she’d turned their own weapons against them made it doubly humiliating. The team staggered in pursuit, shaking off their disorientation, before realizing with a start where she was leading them.

Straight into the energy core of the station itself.

A pair of sentries lay sprawled in front of the entrance, their necks broken, infuriating Azrael. “What are you waiting for?” he demanded. “They were careless, and they deserved their fate. If anyone wishes to join them, by all means, tell me now.” His hand rested on the sidearm belted at his waist, one that was most definitely not non-lethal to emphasize his point, when something caught his eye. He bent down and dabbed at a spot of color on the deck with his finger, before holding it up to them in triumph.

“She’s bleeding out!” he gloated, showing them all the proof. “All you have to do is go in there and finish it!”

The team glanced at one another, before grimly plowing ahead into the core. Power pulsed and thrummed in the chamber as they spread out, crackling with untuned energy as they made their way. The eerie blue glow of Cherenkov radiation sent out false shadows and dancing will-o-wisps that twinkled in their peripheral vision, disappearing as they whipped their heads around to focus their attention. It set them on edge, leaving them darting at shades even as they looked to one another for support.

“... Azrael.”

Samara’s voice was haunting, distorted and amplified as she called out to him.

“... This is between you and me,” she taunted. “I know you don’t care about your team’s lives, but I’ll bet they do. So, I make all of you this offer; leave now, and it ends between us. Stay... and I’ll hunt you down, one by one.”

“Don’t listen to her!” he shrieked, but he had pushed the security team past their breaking point. They wanted no part in this private war, and by mutual assent they scurried out of the compartment, leaving Azrael unescorted, and alone.

“Clever,” he sneered as he drew his weapon. He peered into the gloom as he started his search, his sidearm at the ready, raised to shoulder height and tracking like a third eye.

“I learned from the best,” she replied, her voice seeming to echo in the deserted compartment. “This ends here, Azrael. No more running.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiled, easing around the periphery. “Your little rebellion never had a chance, Samara. Some things are just too big to oppose.”

“Which is why they need to be,” she answered. “Our Clan deserves better, Azrael. Humanity deserves better.”

“Says the girl who got everything she ever wanted,” he scoffed. “Ungrateful bitch.”

“Had I known what was hiding in the fine print, I might have decided differently,” she said from the murk. “But then I was never given a choice.”

“All you wanted was to have someone fix you,” he snapped, as he spotted movement in the upper tiers of the space. “You didn’t care about anything else.”

“... I cared about you,” she whispered, bringing him to a halt.

“You were a job, Samara,” he chuckled, as he crept up the steps, “nothing more. Just another mission.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he moved closer. “Well,” Samara said at last, “there it is.”

“Yes... there it is.” Azrael sidled around to get a better angle as he zeroed in on her position. “I hope it brings you comfort.”

“Strangely enough...it does.” He waited for her to finish that thought, but nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. Moving forward again, he paused at the sight of a large puddle of blood, crouching down to dip his finger in the dark fluid and touch it to his lips, his eyes lighting up as he recognized its taste…

“Venous blood,” he smiled. “You’re hurt bad, Samara, so bad that maybe I’ll just wait here until you drop,” he smiled. He found an alcove to wedge himself in, his weapon at the ready. “There’s no sense fighting it,” he cooed to her. “Just close your eyes and let it all end.”

Something made him freeze, some sixth sense that had been grafted onto his DNA, or perhaps it was a natural trait of Man’s. Either way, it was enough to make him turn... even as a drop of saliva landed on his shoulder. His eyes widened as he realized Samara had baited him into a trap, leaping to his feet as he recognized the form she had taken.

He never made it. A huge paw batted him aside, knocking him to the deck. A werewolf towered over him, its teeth glistening in its jaws even as he realized its fur was matted with blood. The beast’s muzzle had never been designed for human speech, and yet somehow, it spoke.

“... Goodbye, Azrael,” it growled.

“NO!” he screamed as he opened fire.

At point-blank range he couldn’t miss, and yet panic pulled several of his shots wide of the target. But many more found their mark, as the massive beast’s body shuddered with each impact.

But they didn’t stop it.

Razor-sharp claws raked his chest, leaving deep furrows that filled instantly with blood. He staggered, backpedaling as fast as he could while he struggled to reload, but the ragged wound shattered his concentration, leaving his efforts blurred and uncoordinated.

But the beast was also in trouble; its labored breathing coming out like a wheeze even as it closed the gap between them. It staggered, bracing itself against a bulkhead, giving him time to get clear. The sharp pain of his injury settled into a throbbing ache, pulsating in time with his heartbeat.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in,” the Samara-wolf cackled, as Azrael pulled another magazine free and slammed it home.

“Go to hell!” he shouted as his weapon came back up.

“Already been there,” she answered. Her blood-red eyes tracked him effortlessly as he scrambled to get away, her nose twitching as it caught his scent. Her claws seemed even bigger now, even as her lip curled at the muzzle.

“... what big teeth you have,” he murmured, despite himself.

“All the better to eat you with,” she growled, swooning as the blood loss hit her. It took her a moment to recover, just as Azrael made his move.

Throwing himself behind a pillar for cover, he opened fire once again. Bullets whanged off the machinery, even as rounds found their target. The wolf yowled as it leapt into the air, its eyes mad with pain as it closed in, the great jaws snapping as Azrael struggled to get clear, only this time he was a fraction of a second too slow.

Its teeth clamped down on his shoulder, the fangs sinking deep into his flesh. With a jerk of its head it snatched him off his feet, worrying his battered skin and muscle tissue like a terrier with a rat. With all her strength, she jerked him back and forth; the canines sinking ever deeper into his body as he screamed in agony.

With a crash he fell back to the deck as she released him from her jaws, their eyes meeting as she crouched over him, every inch the predator.

“... please,” he whimpered, trying to crawl away, as the great wolf shook its head.

“All that Intelligence,” it grunted, “and you’ve learned nothing.”

The jaws came down again, closing around his throat with a sickening crunch.