Cliff’s Descent by Dianne Duvall

Prologue

“Awaken, vampires!” Bastien bellowed. “The immortals have found us!”

Cliff jerked awake. Bolting upright in bed, he glanced over at Vince and Joe.

Both vampires sat up and regarded him with wide eyes.

Boots pounded through the subterranean tunnels at preternatural speeds.

“How many did you count?” Someone with a… British…? accent asked grimly somewhere outside.

“Fifty-seven vamps below,” another man—this one definitely British—replied. “Four humans above.”

Cliff rolled off the cot he’d claimed and grabbed his blades while Vince and Joe did the same.

Bodies raced past the doorless entry to their room. Other members of Bastien’s vampire army, snarling and growling like animals.

“If you can prevent Roland from killing Sebastien,” the first Brit said, “do so.”

“Oh shit,” Cliff whispered. The Immortal Guardians had discovered Bastien’s home. Or his lair as some of the vampires housed here called it. Had Bastien’s quest to kill Roland—the Immortal Guardian who had brutally murdered his sister and her husband—led them here despite the care they’d all taken not to leave a trail?

Cliff loved Bastien like a brother. The elder vampire had found him shortly after Cliff’s transformation and had taken him under his wing. The psychotic bastard who had transformed Cliff had disappeared before Cliff even fell ill and had been so deranged when he’d reappeared some weeks later that Cliff had wanted nothing to do with him. Bastien, on the other hand, had given Cliff shelter and guidance and helped him come to terms with his frightening new reality.

And Cliff was not the first. Bastien had done the same with nearly a hundred others, feeding them and sheltering them and doing everything he could think of to help them stave off the insanity the peculiar virus that infected them seemed to spawn. He even provided them with lists of pedophiles they could drain so they wouldn’t do what so many other vampires did and kill innocents.

Cliff respected the hell out of Bastien. But since he had launched this war against the Immortal Guardians, intent on killing the man responsible for his sister’s death as well as all the other Immortal Guardians who brutally preyed upon vampires…

Well, there had been instances when Cliff had worried that Bastien’s thirst for revenge might have outfitted him with blinders.

“Go on,” a female with a French accent said upstairs. “I’ll see to the humans.”

A barrage of gunshots broke out above, followed by the thuds of bodies hitting the floor.

Cliff seriously doubted those were Immortal Guardians falling.

The murmur of the female’s voice confirmed his fears as the sounds of battle erupted in the basement, drowning her out. The shicks and tings of blades meeting blades competed with thuds and cries of pain.

“What do we do?” Joe blurted.

Cliff shook his head. “Protect Bastien.” Judging by the fear that filled his friends’ faces, they held as little hope as he did that they’d succeed.

Lunging through the doorway, Cliff led the other two through the winding hallways. Every vampire who lived here had helped dig and shape these tunnels. Four of them branched off the original basement the farmhouse above them had boasted. One led to whatever room Bastien rested in. Cliff had never seen it since Bastien forbade them all entry.

Cliff didn’t blame him for taking that precaution. Bastien had slain several vampires during Cliff’s acquaintance when the insanity those men suffered drove them to defy his orders and attack humans who weren’t on the lists provided. It only took a few years for the madness to seize total control of those infected. So the vampires who were well on their way down that path and worried they might be the next to lose their head—literally—at the edge of Bastien’s sword sometimes tried to sneak up on him while he rested and behead him first.

They didn’t know what Cliff had already divined: that the tunnel that led to Bastien’s room branched into numerous others that proved to be as confusing as a maze in a cornfield. Only Bastien knew the layout. So those who went looking for him always ended up getting lost and meeting the same fate they sought to avoid when Bastien tracked them down.

The other three tunnels that branched off the original basement led to small rooms like Cliff, Vince, and Joe’s that were outfitted with surprisingly comfortable cots and folding stadium chairs in which they could kick back and relax after a hunt.

The metallic scent of blood—coupled with the acrid odors of gunpowder, sweat, and fear—flooded the hallway as more gunshots joined the din and blades continued to clash.

Cliff’s heart slammed against his ribs as adrenaline flooded his veins.

Vampires crowded together at the end of the hallway, forcing him to stop. All pressed forward, eyes glowing, eager to jump into battle and slay the immortals who had invaded their home.

Immortal Guardians had recently slain some of their vampire comrades in a skirmish Bastien himself had limped home from. And everyone here wanted those bastards to pay for it with blood.

Cliff leaned this way and that, rising onto his toes and peering over the vamps in front of him, trying to get a glimpse of what the hell was happening.

When he did, his blood froze.

Three men and one woman—all garbed in the long black coats, shirts, and cargo pants Immortal Guardians favored—fought with preternatural speed that was so much greater than Cliff’s that he sometimes had difficulty following their movements. Each male immortal had planted himself in front of the entrance to a tunnel and proceeded to cut down vampire after vampire who emerged and attacked them. The woman stood near the stairs leading up to the ground floor, spraying any vamp who made it past her brethren with bullets. Blood splattered every immortal and painted the walls and ceilings. Bodies littered the floor.

Vampirebodies that shriveled up as the symbiotic virus they housed devoured them from the inside out in a last desperate bid to continue living.

The bitter taste of fear filled Cliff’s mouth. Was Bastien one of those bodies?

The long, twisting tunnel that led to his room was the only one left unguarded. Had they already slain him?

Cliff strained to hear anything that might indicate Bastien still lived and nearly sagged with relief when he heard Bastien snarl something at… Roland? He was fighting Roland Warbrook?

Determined to find a way to help him, Cliff tightened his hold on his bowie knives and tensed as Mike and Wes, the last two vampires in front of him, lunged forward to attack an Immortal Guardian who must be at least six foot eight with a long black ponytail that reached his ass.

The Immortal Guardian swung a katana so quickly Cliff couldn’t see it. He could only hear the whoosh of its movement.

Mike’s head leaped from his body and landed in Wes’s hands. Cliff sucked in a breath.

Wes yelped and dropped it a second before the Immortal Guardian decapitated him, too.

Vince gasped.

Joe swore.

Cliff stared in horror. Despair inundated him as he gaped up at the immortal who now stood before him.

All of the other Immortal Guardians’ eyes glowed amber. But this one’s eyes glowed golden, and he radiated power like no one Cliff had ever encountered. Was this their leader? Had the leader of the Immortal Guardians come to personally bring a halt to Bastien’s quest? Had he come to kill Bastien?

The immortal gave Cliff, Vince, and Joe a curious look, then glanced over his shoulder.

He wasn’t even breathing hard!

“How many more of these bastards are there?” a British warrior growled with aggravation as he cut down another vampire.

The tallest one responded with a casual shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.”

His voice… This was the man Cliff had heard tell the others to keep Roland from killing Bastien. Why? Because he wanted to kill Bastien himself? Make an example of him?

Cliff glanced at Vince and Joe.

Panic painted their features. Like him, neither seemed to know how the hell they could defeat this immortal and his companions and stop Roland before he killed Bastien.

If he hadn’t already killed him.

HadRoland killed him? It was hard for Cliff to hear with his heartbeat pounding so loudly in his ears.

He focused on the golden-eyed leader. Even three against one, he had no hope of defeating him. And he did not want his head to end up on the floor beside Mike’s and Wes’s…

The immortal arched a brow. “Well?”

Joe’s throat worked in a hard swallow. “You guys are Immortal Guardians?”

“Yes.”

Cliff shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tightened his hold on his weapons. “Did you kill Bastien?”

“No. We have no intention of killing him. Bastien is one of us.”

Shock tore through Cliff. His jaw dropped. “Bastien is an immortal?”

“Yes.”

No way! He couldn’t be! Immortal Guardians didn’t help vampires. They killed them. That’s why Bastien wanted to wage war against them. At least, it was one of the reasons. “He said he was a vampire like us!”

“Because he thinks he is,” the leader replied matter-of-factly. “Bastien is… confused. He was fed false information by the one who transformed him. We’re here to help him, not hurt him.”

Before Cliff could call bullshit, Vince motioned belligerently to the carnage around them. “Then why are you killing all of us?”

Joe nodded, his face dark with fury.

“Bastien’s vampire followers have not been confining their feeding to those on the lists they were given.”

Cliff frowned. Every sunset, Tanner—Bastien’s human assistant—gave each vampire a list of men they could drain. Every name on the list was that of a pedophile. And Cliff, Vince, and Joe had steadfastly stuck to those lists. It was a win-win. They got the blood they needed to survive and at the same time protected who knew how many children from the monsters determined to prey upon them.

Had some of the other vampires strayed?

As if to confirm his thoughts, the imposing warrior continued. “They’re killing innocents. I’m afraid we cannot allow such to continue.”

Joe shook his head. “But Bastien said immortals kill innocents.”

“As I said, he was misinformed. Immortal Guardians only kill those who prey upon the innocent, those who threaten to reveal our existence to the mortal world, and those who seek to harm us. We protect innocents.”

The giant sheathed one katana, pulled out a throwing knife, and hurled it into the throat of a vampire who had snuck past another Immortal Guardian and was circling around to attack his back.

Cliff glanced at his friends and jerked his head toward the tunnel behind them.

All three took a couple of steps back and huddled together while they kept an eye on the immortal blocking their path.

“Do you think it’s true?” Joe blurted. “Do you think Bastien is an immortal?”

Cliff strained to hear what was taking place at the end of that unguarded hallway and finally managed to glean a little information. “Bastien is injured, but Roland hasn’t struck a death blow.”

“Yet,” Vince added.

Joe nodded.

Cliff’s glance strayed to the powerful immortal who left them to their discussion while he tossed daggers and throwing stars at other vampires as casually as one might toss bread crumbs to a flock of pigeons. “Before they struck, I heard this one tell the others to try to keep Roland from killing him.”

“What?” Joe asked, eyes widening.

Vince scowled. “Maybe he just wants to kill Bastien himself.”

“Or maybe,” Cliff forced himself to say as doubt crept in, “he’s telling us the truth. Maybe Bastien is an immortal and was fed a bunch of bullshit by the vamp who turned him. I’ve spent more time with Bastien than you have.” The two of them had forged a strong friendship. “I know his history. The vamp who turned him was his best friend. Bastien would’ve had no reason to doubt whatever he told him.”

Vince’s scowl turned into a pucker of worry. “Bastien is the oldest vampire I’ve ever met.”

Cliff nodded. “Most of us go crazy within a few years of transforming. Bastien didn’t.” It made what the Immortal Guardian leader had told them frighteningly plausible and pretty much annihilated their reasons for fighting.

Straightening his shoulders, Joe cleared his throat and addressed the immortal. “What exactly are our options here?”

“How long has it been since you were turned?” he countered.

“Six months.”

“Fourteen for me,” Cliff said.

“About two and a half years,” Vincent answered.

“How’s the bloodlust?”

“Controllable,” Joe answered.

Cliff nodded. “Same here.”

Vincent hesitated. “It’s pretty bad,” he admitted, surprising Cliff with his honesty. “I… I’ve been having… thoughts… lately that scare me.”

“Have you acted upon them?”

“No.”

Cliff hastened to assure the immortal. “He hasn’t killed anyone who wasn’t on Bastien’s list.”

Joe nodded. “We made sure. One of us is always with him.” Because both had seen the signs that Vince was beginning to struggle with the madness the damned virus caused.

The immortal regarded them thoughtfully. “You have two options then, gentlemen. We can either fight to the death today—your death, I’m afraid.” Yep. That was what Cliff had thought. “Or should you prefer it, you can be taken to one of our research facilities. You’ll be given individual apartments and anything else you need to be comfortable. You will be supplied with bagged blood and food as well. But you will not be able to leave the building without an immortal escort. We can’t risk your killing an innocent.”

Cliff’s stomach sank.

Joe frowned. “Research facility?”

The leader nodded. “Our scientists are attempting to find both a cure for the vampiric virus and a treatment that will alleviate or prevent entirely the madness that inevitably afflicts your kind. Perhaps you would like to be of some assistance.”

A faint glimmer of hope flared. Bastien had enlisted the aid of a scientist to do the same: find a cure for the virus or alternately a treatment for the madness it induced. Unfortunately, he’d had little luck. But these guys looked like they had a lot more resources at their disposal.

Vince snorted. “So you want us to be your guinea pigs? Your lab rats?”

“Look,” Cliff said, not as ready to dismiss the idea, “if there’s a chance they can keep us from going crazy, it’s worth it.”

“I agree,” Joe said somberly.

“But we’d be like their prisoners,” Vince protested.

Yes, they would.

A tense silence ensued.

The big warrior threw another knife.

Joe shook his head. “Killing pedophiles is one thing. I don’t want to end up killing women and kids and people who aren’t violent criminals. If being locked up is the only way to ensure I don’t…”

Cliff nodded. “Yeah, I don’t want to end up like the one who turned me. He didn’t just feed on people, he tortured them.” At least, the vampire who claimed he’d been the one to turn him had. That bastard had been seriously depraved.

“The guy who made me tortured people, too,” Vince admitted reluctantly.

“So did mine,” Joe added.

The Immortal Guardian lobbed another knife at one of two vampires who fought the female, who had abandoned her guns and now wielded shoto swords. “You won’t be treated badly,” he assured them. “And should we not be able to help you, when the madness grows too uncomfortable, you can choose your own end. We won’t force you to linger in such a state.”

The three stared at each other for a long, somber moment.

It really seemed the only way. Dying today wouldn’t help Bastien. If this immortal was truly on the up-and-up, then maybe Bastien, Vince, Joe, and Cliff could all make it out of this alive and get help staving off the madness as well.

“Fine,” Vince said finally. “Let’s do it.”

The formidable immortal sheathed his other katana. “I don’t have any rope with which to restrain you so… sorry about this.” Lightning quick, he punched Vince and Joe. Cliff drew in a breath to protest. But the immortal was quicker.

Pain exploded in Cliff’s face as a big fist struck. The room around him tilted as all strength left his legs.

I hope this isn’t a mistake, Cliff thought just before darkness enveloped him.