Chapter IV

Morgan felt the cold kiss of the knife’s blade first.

The pain came after – hot and intense and blinding. It drove the fangs from his mouth in a rush, the taste of his own blood on his tongue making him dizzy. The rage came last. It was even more blinding than the pain. It obliterated all rational thought, a bestial shock of pure hate and violence. The Austere was quickly forgotten. Morgan snatched Teddy’s hand holding the knife in his gut, the bones under the skin surprisingly robust; they did not break, even after Morgan yanked the knife from his flesh, hand and all. Scalding-hot blood sprayed across the carpet and Teddy shrieked when it seared his skin.

‘Lieutenant!’ cried Shalia. She couldn’t move her hands away from the landlord’s neck; beneath her fingers glowed a soft golden light.

Teddy wailed. ‘That hurts! That hurts!’ He leapt back, wrenched his arm from Morgan’s grip and frantically wiped at the blood leaving steaming patches on his skin.

Morgan gripped his abdomen tightly. Hot breaths of steam and blood escaped from between his fingers. Blood as hot and scalding as acid worked its way up his throat and between his teeth – Morgan took great, panting breaths as his body healed itself. He fought to remain conscious – not to stay awake, but to stop the red flood of fury that threatened to engulf him from the inside out.

From between rotting, charred fingers Teddy’s single eye glared.

Then he smiled.

Teddy lurched for the corporal and the hostage, knife catching the light of the magic between Shalia’s fingers. Morgan followed Teddy’s gaze a moment before and the cold hunger and hate that lingered there. But he could not have predicted this. Even the man’s thoughts were a dizzying mess, desire and rational thought at constant war with one another. It was impossible to tell what he intended to do next.

With one hand still on the landlord’s neck, Shalia went for her Austere. Even if she did make it in time, the gun was still set to non-lethal – it would only delay Teddy for a second or two, at most.

Morgan licked the blood from his lips.

And activated his Sleight.

It was as though the fury of hell flooded his veins, muscles growing taut with the sudden strain. It was a battle just to will them to move; the muscles in his thighs and legs screamed then snapped as Morgan forced them into action.

The knife inched closer to the corporal.

Morgan took a step.

Shalia’s Austere was raised only half-way.

Another.

Shalia reacted first. A brilliant flash of orange and Teddy shuddered as the Austere’s blast met his chest. He didn’t go down, but he did hesitate. It was all Morgan needed. He slammed into Teddy shoulder-first, taking them both down into the carpet in a tangle of flailing limbs and grasping fingers.

The edge of the knife bit into Morgan’s palm, but he ignored the pain to get the weapon out of Teddy’s grip and across the room. Teddy similarly ignored Morgan’s super-hot skin – his narrowed eye held nothing but rage and contempt. He gnashed those tombstone-teeth near Morgan’s ear in a desperate attempt to tear out his throat, but Morgan’s superior weight and height pinned him from above. Morgan wedged his forearm against Teddy’s chin, shoving the man’s jaw – and those wicked teeth – back into the carpet. Teddy thrashed about, hands searching for a weapon within reach. Morgan struggled to restrain him as he bucked and kicked. Then he went for Morgan’s throat, wrapping those fingers around his neck heedless of the heat of Morgan’s skin.

Teddy’s grip was a devilish, utterly inhuman thing. Morgan could feel his spine and the muscles in his neck screaming in protest. His chest heaved, drawing in air that simply was not there even as he gasped like a beached fish. With his hold loosening, Teddy bit down on Morgan’s forearm, hard, deep enough to crush bone. Morgan ground his fangs together in silent agony, unable to drag in the air to scream. Teddy released Morgan’s throat – but not his arm.

    Morgan dragged in a desperate breath.

    They went for each other at the same time. Morgan’s free hand met Teddy’s in a deadlock grapple, both straining to gain purchase over the other. Morgan could not risk pulling his arm free from Teddy’s teeth – he was more likely to come off with a missing arm if he tried – so Teddy still had an arm up on him. Morgan dug his fingers into Teddy’s palm; his hands were larger but it was still a struggle just to stay at a stalemate. Teddy’s eye narrowed from the strain. He bit down harder, the bone of Morgan’s arm snapping and crunching beneath his teeth.

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    Teddy swung his free arm up. Something heavy and hard and metallic slammed into Morgan’s temple. The shock sent him careening out of the grapple, until another slam to his head jarred him of all thought. The lenses of his glasses cracked.

    Morgan’s arm screamed in protest, the only sensation through the haze of disorientation. He could not see and could hear only a sharp ringing in his ears.

    So he felt rather than saw the moment Teddy tore his forearm in half.

    There was a fierce pressure in his muscles and skin, then a sharp crack and a white-hot, blinding agony that Morgan could not muster the energy to even scream for.

    ‘Got you now,’ Teddy cooed.

    He held Morgan’s left forearm like it was a prize cut of meat. The thing was steaming from its torn end, but there was no blood. ‘Nasty,’ he declared, licking the blood from the blue and purple Tape bracer on right hand – the weapon he had used to bash in Morgan’s skull. ‘Bitter. This one is way past its use-by date.’

    The landlord whined beneath her gag, tears pooling on her cheeks.

    Still holding the Austere, the gold light dimmed from Shalia’s fingers as she got to her feet and aimed the sight on Teddy, the barrel now set to kill. ‘I’ll give you one chance,’ she snarled, ‘to turn yourself in. This next shot might just kill you. For good.’

    Morgan got shakily to his feet, left arm steaming and useless at his side. His body had dulled the pain into a kind of muted ache, the absence hurting more than the open wound. It also hurt to speak – his voice was hoarse when he croaked, ‘Corporal. Stay out of it. He’s not going to turn himself in. This is a fight,’ he willed his Sleight to burn hotter and the veins along his skin began to burn white-orange, ‘between monsters.’

    ‘Sir, with all due respect. That’s against protocol.’

    ‘No, the bloodsucker’s right.’ Teddy threw the severed limb to the side. ‘They’re just going to send me to Marl anyway. I won’t last a day in there. And who knows how long this body’s going to last. I might as well go down along with a couple of bureau fuckers.’ He bared his straight teeth in a savage grin.

    ‘Glad we’re on the same page.’ Morgan flashed his fangs.

    Shalia moved to protect the landlord, Austere in hand. ‘This won’t end well, sir.’

    ‘Don’t worry –’

    Teddy went for Morgan, fingers grasping and mouth agape. In that moment he looked more like a zombie recently risen from the grave than he had since the fight began.

    But Morgan’s blood was singing with the Sleight properly now, like an old engine that needs time to heat up before it reaches its peak. Although Teddy moved with terrifying preternatural speed, Morgan’s eyes tracked every step. He dove out of the way as the man went for his throat with those grasping fingers – and plunged his remaining hand into Teddy’s chest.

    A stillness, time holding its breath. Then, ‘Don’t you know?’

    Morgan cursed. He ripped his arm free and took two hasty steps back, his arm covered with a reeking black ichor up to the elbow that quickly boiled off.

    ‘That’s not how you kill someone like me,’ Teddy purred, wrapping his own fingers around his throat. ‘You need to go for the head.’

    But Morgan had only one hand. He could somehow manoeuvre the man to the ground, pin him with his legs and take his head off that way, but Morgan didn’t think he had the stamina or coordination necessary to do it. The Sleight was singing the sweet dirge of fury in his ears – the instinct to bite kill tear blood bone kill bite kill kill kill – constant hammer blows to the head. Yet if he did not win, he knew Teddy would go for the landlord and the corporal. He could read that much in the man’s thoughts.

    Think! What can I use? What weapons do I have?

    The ragged stump of his left arm was itching now like a thousand ants were crawling along the flesh, healing the wound. It would be a long time yet until it recovered – if it fully healed at all. If only…

    Teddy had taken off his arm with his inhumanely strong teeth. He had used it like another limb. Unlike Morgan, he had little reservations when it came to using his preternatural powers.

    ‘Corporal.’

    Shalia shifted her stance, but never let the Austere waver. ‘Yes, sir?’

    ‘You shoot any threat that goes for you. I mean any threat. Got that?’

    ‘Yes sir.’

    Morgan let the Sleight’s sweet song reach its crescendo.

    Kill.

    Bite.

    Tear.

    Bone.

    Blood.

    Kill.

    Kill.

    KILL.

    The room erupted into a burst of steam, water and blood evaporating so quickly it was like a smoke bomb had gone off, obscuring vision.

    But Morgan did not need eyes to see.

    Out of the vapor came a monster of orange and red and gold, savage fangs flashing from a gaping and hungry maw. Large, grasping fingers found and clamped onto Teddy’s skull, slamming the man into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. Still disoriented from the blow, Teddy could not retaliate as those unyielding fingers twisted the man’s head to the side, exposing the rotten flesh of his throat.

    And that pair of sinister fangs dripping with saliva tore into skin.

    Morgan dug in deep, tearing at the skin not to feed but to kill – to separate the base of Teddy’s spine from his skull. He tore and spat, the undead flesh vile and bitter. It was over in mere moments. Teddy didn’t even get the chance to scream.

    His head, eye rolled back and neck now tatters, toppled from his shoulders and made a rather dismal thud when it met the ground. His body followed soon after.

    Shalia took a cautious step. ‘Lieutenant…?’

    A low, ravenous snarl.

    Water dripped from the end of Shalia’s gun as vapor consumed the little apartment.

    A sudden movement ahead of red and orange ahead of her. The displacement of the steam.

    A hungry growl.

    ‘Sorry about this, sir’

    As Morgan emerged from the steam, fingers outstretched, Shalia fired.

    Her aim was perfect.