Bloodlines

The first vampire was Ambrogio, an explorer. Fate set him on a path that led him to an oracle. The oracle was in league with the sun god and after Ambrogio angered him by insulting the oracle, he was cursed so his skin would burn whenever it touched the sunlight. His descendants, however, were more immune to the curses laid on him. The explorer sold his soul to Death but the god refused it and as punishment for talking back, Ambrogio was cursed with longevity.

Ridley exhaled roughly through her nose but said nothing.

We may never know the true origin of our kind but neither might our human cousins. Some believe in evolution and others believe in a higher power. The truth is that our bloodlines will continue, regardless of their origin. Ms Axel, the fact remains that-

“You know instead of a murky history lesson, I could use advice on how to fight through the two hundred and seventy-four goldbloods surrounding me. A good dozen, of whom, I can feel have some sort of eldritch. Oh, and let’s not forget that I am the world’s strongest being, yet I can’t use those powers, or my own.”

Insolent woman! You will be the death of-

“Where am I and how do I save my family?”

Ms Axel, Earnest began sadly, while we are well-versed in the capabilities the Bloodline has to offer, we are not all-powerful, all-seeing gods.

What he means to say, underneath his vast expanse of ramblings, Ninsun cut in, is that our so-called ‘powers’ comes with an equally damning weakness: silver. Which you are currently surrounded by in abundance which means your mind is the only place that is safe. If you wake up, you will feel a burn more excruciating then vapours of Hell.

If she stays every single vampire, regardless of their blood, will die! They are draining her for her worth, Ninsun, and her family is out there! Ridley looked between the four swirling black forms. All of them, surrounding her, with murky grey eyes. I can imagine no agony worse than losing that, Earnest whispered.

If you wake up, young vessel, Onuris stated although through his thick indiscernible accent, it was hard to understand, you will be met with an uphill climb of a fight. One that will end one of two ways. Either you will die and in hand with that, so will every gold- black- and redblood vampire, or you will lose and be re-captured and continue to be used for spoils.

Ridley balled a fist at them. “But I can wake up? I force myself to overpower the sedative?” Four pairs of grey eyes turned away from her. “Earnest?” The past Sources began to drift away from her. “You’re all dead so I really don’t understand what you have to fear. Either one of you answers me, or the next time I get my hand on a knife I bleed myself to death.”

How do you intend to do that when you rejuvenate as speedily as you do?

“I doubt I can regrow my limbs and organs. Do you really want to find out?” Ninsun only growled at her, narrowing his wide eyes. Ridley sighed released her fist. “This isn’t just my family, anymore and you all know that. It’s not ampyra and non-ampyra either. If the Consortium has their way, everyone is at stake. Please.”

It is forbidden for the Source to-

“I’m not negotiating,” Ridley jeered. “Now how do I wake up?”

Earnest sighed then waked up her resting his hands on her shoulders. Waking up isn’t the problem, he began. He gave a firm squeeze with his wispy form was cold on her. It’s what comes next. You will still feel the sedative a while. A long while and do not forget your arm is still in a holster. Be careful, Ms Axel.

Earnest, Ninsun yelled. She is surrounded by silver! She will not be able to contact us or the mut!

Focus on your physical senses. Force them to find the physical spectrum, your conscious will follow. Ridley watched him fall back in line clenching her fists in concentration. Don’t forget, you’re surrounded by a ward of silver. Your capabilities will be void until you are beyond it.

Ridley nodded then closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. It was swimming to the surface of dark water. The light above rippled and distant. Even while she was breathing there was pain from the dregs of her strain from holding her breath. A chill ran down her spine, knowing whatever was on the other side of consciousness would bring the ultimate fight against the Consortium of Ancients.

It was painful - the light on her eyes - and Ridley’s eyes were heavy. There were throes running down her arms and the tormenting trill of feedback. Not from a microphone; from the silver. Coins, raw nuggets, jewellry, encircling the examination table Ridley was strapped to. Pierced into her arms, were rods too thick to be standard medical needles. Three in each arm. Worst of all, her body could feel that these were silver.

Silver was commonly believed to repel evil spirits, possibly because it has antimicrobial properties; it has been used as a symbol of purity for thousands of years, dating back to ancient times when people noticed water with silver in it took longer to go bad. The burn was unlike anything else. The rods in her arms sent pains with every heartbeat.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the blinding white room, finding herself not at all alone. Edwyn sat there, in a corner, reading a newspaper with a vintage radio humming orchestral music on a small wooden stool. Ridley moaned against the brightness, against the pain, against the drowsiness. She was cold, very cold. All she had on was a hospital gown. The chipping nail polish on her bluing toes was exposed.

Ridley groaned, earning Edwyn’s attention. He set his newspaper on the stool. He turned down the already low volume on the radio. Edwyn came strolling towards her with his hands clasped behind his suit. He wore a white cravat that was matched with his pocket square. Her weak eyes saw the glimmers of Tomás in his face.

The sharp shape of his smug sagging mug and the bulge in his nose. Had it not been for the clef in Edwyn’s chin, her deceiving eyes may have convinced what she was seeing was her brother. The grey hair wouldn’t have made a difference against their white surroundings. Ridley tugged on her arm, sending rippling agony through her. Even clenching a fist sent her arm into pain and it made her squeal.

Edwyn said nothing. He steadily began circling her, taking the contraption that had the Source, the ultimate being, completely neutralised. He saw the lividity in her greyish-white eyes but disregarded it. The old man merely gave a scoff. A creased hand trailed on her granite gurney, mere nanometers from her and it made her skin tingle and crawl.

At last her had circled her then rested his head above her, examining the Bloodline colour in her eyes. Edwyn shook his head at. “All that trouble and you were a little girl the entire time,” he voiced. “A hunter little girl,” he added, seeing her exposed gradus.” He shook his head. “I admit, I’m a little disappointed. I was expecting something more...” he thought to himself with a smirk “... more.”

Ridley turned her eyes to the florescent light panels above them, forcing her eyes to adjust faster. Their blotches made it hard to see Edwyn’s face but she wouldn’t look away from that toying smirk that couldn’t be carved off his face. The drowsiness showed no sign of lifting anytime soon and Ridley could feel the bullet still lodging in her right arm. The Consortium’s leader caressed her cheek.

“You look exactly like Clotilde,” Edwyn began again. “The splitting image.” He sighed then dropped his hand. “You know I loved that woman? Gave me a beautiful son... and Tomás.” Ridley furrowed her eyebrows. “What? Haven’t pieced it together yet? My, my, we are slow. Let me show you why I am doing all this.”

Edwyn turned on his heel and made for the door at the foot of Ridley’s restraining table. The door slid aside for him. Ridley inhaled deeply focusing her mind. The mental search for Ankh only gave back feedback inside her head. It made her head spin! She looked around, only saw abyssal white. Apart from white camouflaged cameras, no one-way glass, no guards. When she glanced at her left arm, she saw the silver rods had pipping attached to them.

Upon further examination, Ridley noticed it was her blood. Completely grey, like mercury. She was seething, raging her mind for an idea. Nothing. That is, nothing that wouldn’t be excruciating! Tears pooled in her eyes when shifted her left arm. Gritting her teeth and even holding her breath could do nothing to ease the burning curse of silver. Her movement grew tedious and each one came with strained and quiet scream.

The door slid aside again and in came Edwyn leading a guard who pushed a wheelchair into a room. No ordinary wheelchair. This was adapted to have multiple blood banks pumping gold blood into the mummified body in it. The guard parked the wheelchair and stood aside, revealing the gun at his side. It blended too well with his black uniform. Ridley sobbed from the sudden burst of stings in her body.

Edwyn sighed and shook his head at her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “My quackling, there’s no use in trying,” he whispered. “This is machina sanguinem exhauri. Designed by da Vinci, himself. We used this as a method to extract information from the hunters during the Gold Scourge. Of course, we had to make alterations just for you; more silver. The Source’s only known weakness.”

Ridley balled fists, in spite of the soreness it invoked. Her breathing was heavy and tears streamed down her face and into her hair. Edwyn revelled in it, watching her turn her head to the side. Her eyes saw the pity in the drooping eyes of the barely living man in the wheelchair. He had Edwyn’s dark eyes set on her and it made bile rise in her throat. Edwyn saw them looking between each other then grinned like the Chesire Cat.

Ridley sized up the form that slumped what was left of his shoulders. He was nothing more than bones, barely held together by skin so grey and so wrinkled. What was left of his hair was wafer thin and in patches. His ears dangled inches above his shoulders and his arms were so boney, it was a miracle he had the muscles to wave at her.

“Ah yes, introductions,” Edwyn cheered. “Quackling du Luq, may I present to you my son, Timothee Benedict Peter Grey. My dear boy, this is the woman who will save your life.” Edwyn turned back to Ridley with vivid sadness on his face. “You see, the Consortium was always a resistance to the way the Scourges ended. Some decades ago, they went astray until I joined. Obviously, I had ulterior motives but they had the resources we needed. Now, say hello.”

“That thing looks like it has a signed copy of the Bible.”

“I’d hit you if you weren’t strapped down and... pregnable.”

“Don’t hold back on my accord,” Ridley jeered.

Inhaling sharply, she gritted her teeth. She shut her eyes then forced herself to sit up. She punched Edwyn in the face, screaming. The guard came at her and she kicked him in the chest. He stammered backwards. Ridley wheezed when she reached for the rods in her forearm. She pulled the one in her upper arm too, burning her palm.

The guard came back at her. She jabbed a rod into his throat. She punched it deeper. He tumbled onto Edwyn. Ridley was crying from the pain. Under her crying, the guard was gurgling on his own blood while Edwyn tried to roll him off him. The Source took a deep breath then reached for the rod in her left arm. Moving was sore from the bullet still resting in her shoulder. Compared to the rods, the bullet was mild.

She screamed as the rod came unhurriedly out of her arm. Her breathing was serrated like the rods’ tips that dug into her. She took deep breaths, enough to lighten her head. All the while Timothee could only watch with his skull-sunken eyes. He watched the huntress inhale sharply before ripping the last rod out of her arm. She looked over her wounds, not healing. She moaned then slid off the gurney. At the head of the exsanguinating machine was a glass tank filling with her blood.

Too engulfed in her pain, Ridley only grabbed the guard’s gun and waddled to the door. It slid aside for her and she leaned against the wall, bleeding before she tumbled onto the tiled floor. She looked up to see sterile hallway. “Ankh,” she called. She moaned, pulling herself to her feet. “Earnest? Anyone,” she called.

She started shivering from the hospital-like setting’s cold climate. Her metallic grey blood was drenched on her hospital gown and on the floor. Her bare feet sprauchled forward into the maze. She moaned before seeing the holes in her arms slowly close. She came to a door with glass in it. Inside were guards and security cameras. Ridley leaned against the wall then banged on the door. She grunted from using her right arm but didn’t stop until she heard the door unlock.

The poor guard who opened the door was kissed on the lips with a bullet. The other came charging to her and she shot at his leg, missing him. She fired repeatedly until he fell to his knees. She shut the door and locked it. She slogged closer before leaning the gun in his shoulder. She fired when he reached for his own. She sat at the monitors, scanning through them.

“Where am I,” she asked the second guard. Her voice was weak and soft. Her breathing was heavy from her shivering. The guard said nothing while she was typing. “Tell me or you’re joining your partner,” she said.

“Go to hell.”

Ridley rolled her eyes then spun the chair. She pointed the gun at him. She felt pains shoot through her feeble form. “Where’re are the du Luqs being kept?” He shook his head. He saw the tremour in her lip but she pursed her lips. She fired the gun, into his arm. She spun back to the monitors then continued typing. “Ankh, tell me you can hear me?”

“It can’t. All the rooms are lined with silver.”

“You’ll tell me that but not where my family is,” Ridley asked, scanning through the monitors. “You’ve got odd goals around here.”

“The wolf is kept sedated in a lab,” he added, and Ridley saw it on the monitor. She compared it to the schematics on the computer. “You’ll never get out of here,” the guard added.

“That’s a matter of perspective,” Ridley countered. “Third floor,” she said out loud.

In the screen’s reflection she saw him reaching for his side arm. She spun around and shot him repeatedly. She groaned then knelt next to him, peeling off his jacket. She nestled into the warm blood-drenched jacket. She rolled her eyes then turned back to the monitors. There, on one screen, were files. On her, on Ankh and on Timothee. Her lips parted when she scanned through the information on Renee and Edwyn’s second son.

A shiver ran down her spine when she spun the chair around. On the gold blood splattered wall behind the body were uniforms and more ammunition. Ridley sniffled then took down a pair of pants and shoes. She tucked more cartridges into the holsters and pockets and wherever she could. There weren’t any knives or daggers, or anything she specialized in.

Guns were Ryan’s forte and although Ridley wasn’t an expert in guns, they were a requirement in training. Her hearing caught footsteps coming her way. She dragged the bodies behind the shelves before ducking under the door. She was still shivering and her hands were pale like bones. Edwyn looked into the security room then roared. He banged the door then slammed the button nearby. Alarms sounded throughout the compound. She inhaled sharply, knowing that her right arm was still out of commission and her blood drain was also holding her back.

“Ridley Dominique,” she voiced to herself. “You are a fifth generation hunter. You won gold in the Hunter Olympics, gold in international competitions. You are Clarke Axel’s daughter,” she added tearing up. “Papa, please help me. I can’t do this.” She sniffled, wiping her tears. “I’m sorry I left. I’m so sorry. Please, papa, find me.” She took in the security room and the gold blood trail on the floor. “Can someone hear me? I’m scared.”

She huddled her arms around her legs, sobbing to herself and shivering. Ridley sniffled, burring her face. The blaring alarms beyond the door were muffled and she tightened her hold on herself. The dead bodies next to her sank, bringing down a few of the radios with them. The hunter shook her head dolefully without lifting it.

“I don’t know what to do.”

The room was quiet and Ridley, for the first time in her life, felt helpless. She moaned, reflecting on her life. Growing up with Dane right by her side. How he tolerated all of her coldness; ignoring him, sparring with him, breaking his humerus twice, that one time she stabbed him in the leg because he was picking on Ryan. Even when she wounded him, Dane stayed true to her.

As did Esmeralda; so swiftly she just became a mother to a set of motherless twin girls. Ridley always kept a distance from her while Ryan embraced her. Over the years, Esmeralda never gave up on her and they just fell into this unquantifiable relationship. Now, Ridley wanted nothing more than to rush into her arms and cry, as well as into Clarke’s. The man who worked himself to the bone just for her and her sister. No matter how bad their lives were, Clarke was always there for Ridley and Ryan.

She missed them... genuinely missed them. If she could, she would run back to them. She would just be at how. Finish high school and, maybe, give her and Dane a chance. Go to university, probably, and perhaps get a day job like most hunters instead of trying to make it big fulltime. It was a dream she and Ryan shared - although she never told Ryan that - and it was nice. It was one way she felt close to her sister while keeping that emotional block between them. For Ryan’s sake.

The bodies slammed into the ground and Ridley sighed. The alarm continued but even then, there weren’t even footsteps in the corridor. Ridley furrowed her eyebrows then sat up. She groaned as she stood up to look out the window. No guards scanning the floors. She unlatched the door and peered outside. Nothing but alarm and red flashing light. A weak exhale escaped her before she came back in.

She thought it over. “They’re not proper guards,” she said. She turned to the dead bodies, their gold blood pooling across the floor. “They’re not proper guards,” she scoffed. “I’m still outnumbered.” She punched the wall then sighed. “Ankh, third floor. du Luqs, underground. Only fire when absolutely crucial, no eldritch, no psionics, no Sources.” She shook her head, mustering whatever courage she had left. “If anyone can hear me, if I don’t make it out, please tell my family I love them. Tell Dane that I do love him and that I’m sorry that I never told him that.”

Ridley loaded the second gun. She inhaled deeply then unlatched the door. Two guns in hand, she stepped outside into the danger. Her boots echoed across the tiled floor, cautiously. She scanned each corridor while creeping across the floor. The elevators were at the end of the corridor and the stairwell right next door. The elevator was coming up. She ducked into the stairwell quietly. Seventh Floor, according to the placard on the wall.

The Source inhaled deeply then began her descent as quietly as possible because she could hear them on the staircase above. She stuck to the walls, moving as fast as her drowsiness would allow her to. Ridley fought to suppress her groans from her healing body. The sixth floor was snail’s pace; each step unrushed and careful. The fifth floor and the men above started to move down.

A shaky sigh came from her before she started skipping a step on the move. She stumbled! She fell to the end and caught herself on the landing, instinctively using her right arm. The groan that erupted resonated through the stairwell. The stairwell went dead silent after that. Ridley pursed her lips while the guards pondered what they heard.

They came for her! Ridley darted through the fourth-floor door and sprinted across the corridor. White walls with glass revealing scientists examining blood samples under microscopes; writing formula and drawing cellar structures; combining samples with other substances. Ridley halted, awed, watching a few of them inject their cocktail into mice. One blew up. One grew jagged teeth at ate the other two. The scary thing was that the blood that they were using was red.

It made Ridley livid! She kicked the door in and started firing at will. Scientists were shot down! She let out a war cry as she charged down each corridor shooting down like an animal! She rounded a corner, hearing the guards. She reloaded both guns with one hand, still unable to use her right arm. Ridley scowled angrily then came out shooting the guards down! Some wore bulletproof vests and Ridley’s eyes went wide.

She gasped then shot a glass she tore a shard off the frame then charged at them. “You hurt my Ankh!”

She jabbed the shard into one man’s neck. She ripped it out then stabbed a second in the head. She fired two shots into another face. The fourth guard fired back. She held up the man she stabbed in the head. Ridley started running with her human shield, throwing him at the remaining guard. She grabbed the shard then started stabbing the last guard repeatedly in the face. She ripped the shard out a final time with his eye on the edge. She spun to see a scientist holding a sedative up to her.

He gasped then held his hands up. Ridley snarled at him. “If you value your life, you’ll hand that over,” she hissed. He nodded vigorously then handed over the intraligamental gun. “What’s in here?”

“P-propofol.”

Ridley sized him up then took the syringe and tucked it into the inner pocket of her jacket. She sized him up then turned to leave. She took the stairs again, regaining a bit more of her hunter attitude. She exhaled her rage then dashed to the floor below. She threw the glass shard with the eyeball aside. She pulled the gun from tucked in her pants.

The huntress took another breath before kicking down the door, soundless to the blaring siren and the blinky light. More scientists were well at work, hustling to pack away samples and notes and tablets and files. Ridley walked into the fray, searching for any sign of Ankh. She exhaled how incensed she was. She held up a gun and fired a single shot into the ceiling.

After brief screams, the floor was frozen! “Where... is... Ankh!” Nobody dared to answer her. “Fine.” She grabbed the nearest woman and dug her nails into her arm. “I hate being extreme but if one of you doesn’t tell me where my wolf is...!” She pressed the gun into the woman’s head, straining against using her right arm. “Gold and white is a gorgeous combination.”

“Subject WS-02 has been transported,” the hostage stated. “When the alarms went off, the guards came to evacuate the wolf. We don’t know where they took it.”

"She is my only friend so one of you better give me something!” The corridor was quiet and none of them made eye contact. “One...” Ridley began, wholly intent on pulling the trigger. “Two...”

The scientists shrieked when the gun fired. Ridley gasped then dropped the hostage. She looked at her right arm, dripping blood from right below her elbow. The bullet went straight through. She held up her arm to see the would heal through the hole in her jacket. Ridley looked down a corner to see a trembling woman holding a gun at her. She arched an eyebrow then shot the woman dead.

“Anyone want to be a brave star?” Ridley held the gun up again. “Cool,” she replied. “Three!” She shot the hostage in the head. “Start talking! Where’s Ankh!”

“We don’t know. We don’t know anything!”

Ridley shot the man who spoke, eliciting more screams. The bullet his him in the eye. “My aim really is off; I’m out of practice. It’s been... I’d say, six years since I shot a gun. Let’s see how good I still am.” She started firing at rapid. They fled in fear and she didn’t care. “I’ll stop when someone gives me an answer,” she said over her gunfire. Like knives, her aim was impeccable! It was off because of her right arm’s injury and her left arm’s lame.

While walking through the floor, Ridley took the opportunity to shoot up their material. Tablet, binders, vials, briefcases. Whatever she came across! Innocent men and women fell at her feet, coating the floor in gold. Her body was finally overpowering the sedative but not the silver. Her psionics were still down, as was her eldritch and her link to the past Sources. Her rage, however, was perfectly felt.

She sighed then started modelling through the corridors and searching for Ankh. She scanned each room she passed, including the supply closet and the janitor’s closet. She rounded the entire floor to find no sign of her. “Ankh, if you can you hear me,” Ridley pleaded, rushing to the stairwell with her desperation growing, “give me a sign.” She darted down to the underground floor. Halfway down was a horde of guards. “God, You must be desperate to fill up Hell for some reason.”

She reloaded one gun at a time then felt a pang in her head. She gasped and it slammed her into the ground. Ridley tumbled down the stairs and rammed into the landing’s wall. She groaned then shook her head but the crash signalled the guards that were filling the stairwell. It didn’t feel like she was alone in her head anymore. Whoever, or whatever, it was nauseating.

Ridley groaned but guards were already surrounding her, aiming their firearms at her. One man, when Ridley staggered to her feet, tased her in the ribs. She plummeted back into the wall. The throbbing in her head only grew worse with the jolts shooting through her. They left her there, writhing on the ground, and watched her weaken. Ridley persisted. The guard who tased her kicked her in the jaw, officially neutralising the Source.

Two men tossed her arms over their shoulders and towed her through the stairwell. Their radios were murmuring and their voices were indistinct from the blurring whirring of the headache. Ridley couldn’t even find it in her to move her arms; they were too heavy to move. A weak moan came from her before her head hung low. She watched - through blurry vision - as her feet limply trail on the stairs.

Soon, how soon Ridley couldn’t tell, they were no longer on the stairwell. They were dragging her down a dim corridor. The further they went, the more agonising her headache became. The grinding roar of a heavy lock unlatching echoed down the corridor before they threw her inside. Firm yet trembling hands tugged her into an embrace.

“Sister!”

Ridley groaned feeling Tomás’ hands run over her face. Warm deep blue eyes caught hers that were glowing with a pale grey, in place of their hereditary dark brown and she leaned into his chest. Tomás sighed his relief then hugged her tight. Ridley dug her nails into his shoulders, compressing just as much as he did her. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured tearing up. “I should have told you everything.”

Tomás shook his head. His tears streamed into her messy black hair. “That’s the past now. We’re together now,” he cried. “My dear, dear sister. I should have protected you better.” Ridley felt him comb through her hair while she eased into his chest.

“Enough,” Viggo bellowed. The subterranean room they were in was far from empty. A little horde of guards. Viggo had Dominique by the arm - her hands handcuffed behind her. Next to her, on his knees and also handcuffed, was Sebastian. “It’s time for the House of du Luq to meet its demise.”

“The way it should have during the Revolution,” Edwyn jeered. Covered in the blood of the guard Ridley pinned him underneath. Another wheeled in Timothee’s wheelchair. Six bags of gold blood were on various drips, jabbed into his back. “But perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that you were not. How else would we come to know that the Source was a du Luq?”

Tomás gathered Ridley tighter towards him, feeling the true extent of her feebleness. “The Source will never serve you, father,” the patriarch hissed.

“I am aware,” Edwyn answered. His hand trailed off the backrest of the wheelchair. “That is why I will become the new Source.”

Dominique gasped from beside Viggo. “Edwyn,” she bellowed. “That is your sons’ sister! She may not be your daughter but she is your family. Remona is Clotilde’s daughter as much as Tomás! If you lay a hand on her hair, you will...”

Viggo punched the curvaceous court lady in her stomach to silence her. Tomás gritted his teeth while Ridley dared to sit up. Pounding aches shot through her head again and she leaned back into Tomás.

“The silver is working all too well on her,” Edwyn purred, while Tomás wrapped his arms around her. “She may have removed the silver from her body, but its effects are working as predicted.”

It’s not... silver, Earnest’s faint voice echoed. Ms Axel... you... hear me? It’s not the silver!

“Ankh.”

The barely audible word felt almost alien on Ridley’s blue lips that still shivered. She could feel the headache worsening by the minute. A glee warmed her against the cold before she shifted slightly. Her eyes met Timothee Grey’s. The living mummy blinked but his eyes were out of synch and he shivered too, just as she did.

The grey eyes shifted back to Edwyn, feeling a more pronounced throb. She grunted then squeezed Tomás’ hand against the pain. She inhaled deeply then turned to their captors. “Viggo,” she called. “Did you know,” she began. Tomás’ hold on her grew more protective. “None of this is about saving your kind, or restoring ours.” Barely capable of using Tomás as a crutch, Ridley forced herself to her feet. “It’s about him,” she said, pointing to Timothee. “It’s always been about him.”

Another psionic blow to the head had Ridley teetering backwards. Tomás leaped to his feet! He cradled his sister as best he could. “Sister-”

She held up a hand to silence him. “He’s going to use the wolfen for their blood and that’s it. You, and them, are helpful to him, is all. As soon as you’re not, you’re dust.”

“’Tis a cliche tactic,” Viggo replied. “To turn one against the other. I thought you younglings were an imaginative bunch. Disappointing.”

Edwyn hummed then crossed the room towards the brother and sister. Tomás shielded Ridley behind him. “She is my sister!” The greying man sized Tomás up and down. He leaned into Tomás’ ear. Ridley groaned then stepped away. She clutched her head, before kneeling. “Please, I beg you, spare her. Spare my sister, father.”

I feel the harridan! I sense her, Ninsun cheered.

She is healed! She was stalling, Onuris pointed out. The brilliant witch!

Ridley screeched from the ripping lash in her skull. Tomás spun to face her. Edwyn shoved him aside. “You are no son to me,” he spat. He grabbed Ridley by the throat. Her feet lifted off the ground when he straightened up. “I will be a god!”

“Keep dreaming,” Ridley spat. Ridley screamed from the burning strain in her head. “Ankh!”

A bone-chilling roar rattled the doors before a towering humanoid grey wolf came charging like a raging bull! Ankh leaped through guards, slashing through their Kevlar. Her fearsome growl deafened the siren. A meaty paw smote Edwyn aside. Ridley dropped to the ground. The Source gasped for air then looked up to see the wolf ripping through men in black.

Ankh ripped a head clean off a man’s shoulder’s, flinging it to Tomás’ feet. Ridley sighed then crawled towards Sebestian and Dominique. Viggo stood aside to watch the fray. The Source reached for the handcuffs. Trembling hands grabbed Sebastian’s handcuffs. It took more strain than she anticipated to pull on them. Ridley Grunted before the bracelets gave way. She exhaled heavily before seeing Ankh leap for Dominique.

The woman really did just stand there, and watch paws and razor teeth come her way. Ridley spun her foot underneath hers! Dominique fell to the ground. Dominique slammed her face into the ground. Ankh impaled the guard behind her. Ridley handed Sebastian her gun. She pulled Dominique to her feet. “Thank you, Ridley,” Dominique replied, massaging her jaw.

“You called me Ridley,” the Source countered. She spun her aunt aside and stabbed an oncoming guard in the throat. Her knee met his privates. She dug her nails into his face. She broke his neck! “You never call me that.”

“That was unsightly,” Dominique pointed out. “And Ridley is your name, no?” Ridley scoffed. “Behind you!”

Ridley shoved Dominique aside. She spun to see a guard with an axe. The bullet in her right arm was still hurting but nothing compared to the headache she was fighting. Ridley grabbed the blade of the axe. She ducked aside. She punched repeatedly into the man’s face. She freed the axe. She swung it into his chest.

“Sebastian,” Ridley called over his gunfire. She threw a cartridge of ammunition. “Take Dominique. Get out.”

Before Sebastian could argue, Ridley threw the axe into the back of a guard standing off with the timid Tomás. She sprinted across the room. She leaped over Ankh, chasing Edwyn. Ridley ripped her axe out of the man’s back before leaving his gold blood to stain the sterile tiles. Tomás gasped at her. She offered the handle of the axe to him. She pulled him to his feet.

Ankh snarled with her paws on either side of Edwyn who was pinned to the ground. Ridley cupped Tomás’ shoulder. The carnage of the room was done. Bodies buried under a flood of golden blood had Tomás pale. Dominique too while Sebastian dragged her out. Ankh’s heavy pants and the snarls that came with them filled the air.

The wolfen backed off of the goldblood, standing on her hindlegs. She took a deep breath in before shrinking to a petite naked woman covered in blood. Ridley grunted her strain from peeling off the black jacket. A weak right arm and her abled left arm set it over Ankh’s shoulders.

“Good girl,” Tomás replied. Ankh shot him a warning glare. “Never mind. Sorry.”

Ridley, however, kept her eyes on Edwyn. Ankh’s green eyes looked that way too, followed by Tomás. The siblings were still holding the axe. Tomás tugged on it and Ridley looked up at him. She shook her head at him. “I meant it when I said I’d do it,” she said. “Go with Sebastian,” she ordered.

Tomás sized up his father then nodded at his sister. He made for the door. “It will not end here,” Edwyn hissed.

“I beg to differ,” Ankh replied.

“Really?” The old man chuckled. “Where’s Viggo?”

Ridley and Ankh searched the faces on the floor - even the ones that were missing bodies - then saw Timothee still in his wheelchair. He had watched everything and hadn’t uttered a word. His skull-sunken eyes only blinked. The information she read on him made her heart sink. She looked back at Ankh and the look she gave showed that the wolf could see exactly what the Source was thinking.

“Belligerent little ducks,” Edwyn commented. “While you two were fighting towards each other, I had your blood shipped to a secure location. Viggo knows where. He will continue my work.”

“Again,” Ankh answered, “I beg to differ.”

“He can’t hide from the Source,” Ridley added.

Edwyn lunged! Ridley arched the axe! Gun shot! Edwyn fell to the ground. Ridley spun her head to see Tomás holding onto the gun, shaking. She gasped before rushing to his side. Tomás wouldn’t look away from Edwyn bleeding from his neck and choking on his black blood. Ridley’s cold hands took the barrel and forced it down. Tomás started panting before he let go of the weapon.

Ridley tossed it aside. She pulled Tomás into a hug. “It’s over,” she whispered. He nodded into her crown and she felt his entire body was shaking. “Thank you...” she whispered “... brother.” Tomás scoffed then tightened his hold on her. “My brother.”

“Ridley,” Ankh called, kneeling before Timothee.

The Source sighed then took Tomás’ hand and trailed over to the wheelchair. Timothee’s colourless eyes went between Ridley and Tomás. “Timothee,” Ridley called. “Timothee, do you know who we are?”

Wheezing started off his reply before single, stiff nod followed. “S-sister,” he answered her. His eyes tedious made for Tomás. Tomás’ awed expression turned to Ridley. “Brother.”

Tomás looked back at him. “What,” he exclaimed. “No. H-how?”

“It’s true,” Ridley began sadly, “Timothee Grey is as much your brother as Ryan was my sister. I saw his file.” Tomás shook his head in disbelief. “He was born in 1578; seventy years before you. His parents are Renee and Edwyn.” Tomás knelt before his older brother, reaching for his hand. “Be careful,” Ridley warned. “He’s brittle. Very brittle.”

“Ridley,” Ankh called, visibly panicked. “If he’s seventy years older than Tomás, that means he’s four hundred and forty-something.”

“Four hundred and forty-four,” Ridley said with a nod.

“Why does he look this way,” Tomás begged.

Ridley knelt then took Timothee’s other hand but she was looking at Tomás. “He’s human. Being kept alive by the gold blood Edwyn had been pumping into him for God knows how long,” she said. Tomás was dumbstruck, looking between his brother and sister. Ridley sighed then looked to Timothee. “I don’t know if I can help you.”

Timothee wheezed then gave a long, unsynchronised blink to his younger siblings. “Don’t...” he heaved a breath “... want h-hel-”

“Easy, brother, you are so weak,” Tomás cut in.

Ankh cupped his shoulder and Ridley was focused on Timothee. “If you don’t want help, what do you want,” she asked.

Timothee looked passed them at Edwyn’s still body across the room. Ridley followed seeing him dead. “Peace,” Timothee answered.

Ridley understood then rose. She dug for the sedative that was in the jacket’s inner pocket. Ankh allowed Ridley to rummage through it. “This’s propofol.” Timothee didn’t reply. “You’ll go peacefully. I give you my word as your sister.” He gave a strained nod. “I’m sorry I insulted you, earlier, brother.”

“And I am sorry we never knew each other,” Tomás added.

Timothee nodded at them. The Source pricked the needle into his arm and emptied the syringe into the wood-like arm. They watched him relax before his eyes steadily closed. Ridley squeezed his hand, feeling his already weak pulse. Tomás stroked Timothee’s cheek and Ankh stood back and searched for the axe.

Ridley watched the weak pulse in Timothee’s wrist when Ankh nudged her with the axe’s handle. “No,” Ridley answered. “He’s been mutilated enough,” she said pointing to the blood bags and their drips jammed into Timothee’s back. “I won’t damage him even more.”

The Source sighed while taking in the room, not confident in her options. Then she saw Edwyn’s corpse. She went to scramble her fingers about his cravat. The white silk fabric was covered in black blood. Ridley stood up then turned to her brothers. She swallowed hard then crept back to the wheelchair. She tilted Timothee’s head back while Tomás only nodded his readiness at her.

The cravat covered his mouth and nose and Ridley pinched Timothee’s nose closed. She and Tomás kept their eyes on each other while they waited. Tears filled the deep blue eyes of Tomás du Luq while Ridley bit her lower lip, forcing herself not to look away. Ankh watched Timothee, listening to his heart slow down before staggering. Ridley felt tears pool in her eyes too, reliving the night Ryan died.

Watching the life faded from her eyes, feeling her body go limp. Here, now, her brother could go in peace. Unlike that, she felt slightly better. A bittersweet, of sorts. She watched Tomás grit his teeth while Timothee jerked about and tears fell from Ridley’s eyes. She shut her eyes before exhaling. Timothee writhed under her hands and Ankh watched him. The wolfen watched him go still then listened for his heart.

She reached for Ridley’s shoulder. “He’s gone,” she whispered.

Tomás pat Timothee’s hand repeatedly. He saw Ridley not opening her eyes. “Sister, it’s alright.”

Ridley sighed then dared to look to Tomás. “I know,” she said. “It’s just hard to believe there was a time I looked forward to making hunt.” She cupped her forehead, leaning into Tomás. He kissed her crown. “You four alright up there,” Ridley asked.

I had the utmost faith in you, Ms Axel.

You are not dead, Ninsun added. I am impressed despite your actions being short-sighted, pigheaded and all ’round recalcitrant.

Well done, all.

Ankh gave Ridley a fist pump. “Wait, aren’t there four of them in our heads,” the wolfen asked.

“The last one doesn’t talk much,” Ridley revealed. “I don’t even know his name.”

Earnest, Ninsun and Onuris were silent. Ankh sighed then looped her with Ridley’s. Tomás kissed Ridley’s crown a final time before they wove through the hospital-like maze for Sebastian and Dominique. Apart from the raving alarm, the place was deserted. Tomás held onto the axe, nonetheless, while they wound up walking towards the sound of a revving engine.

Dominique was pulling Sebastian towards the armoured truck, fear-stricken. She was begging him to leave but he was determined to return to the fight. Tomás clanked the axe onto the side of the van to silence them. Sebastian all but jumped into his arms. Ridley teared up and rushed into Dominique's embrace. Dominique chuckled through her tears of holding her niece.

"I'm sorry I could not fight."

Ridley shook her head. "Not everyone is meant for battle," she answered. Dominique combed through her hair before watching Ridley straighten up. "But everyone is meant for family." Ridley wiped away Dominique's tears. "Aimée taught me that." Dominique beamed at her. "And you taught me that, tante Dominique."

Dominique gave a tear-filled wry smile then pulled Ridley into another tight hug. "Oh, if only Aimée were here," Dominique added.