Free Underworld: Blood Enemy by Greg Cox Page A

another reason for wishing the pilgrimage completed. He glanced upward at the gibbous moon; only a sliver of shadow kept the radiant lunar orb from waxing entirely full. Already, Lucian could feel the tidal pull of the moon on the beast within him. His blood surged through his veins, while his teeth and nails tugged on their roots, eager to extend outward until they were as long and as sharp as knives. The hair on his scalp and skin stood on end, thicker and coarser than before.
    Blue haloes outlined the dark brown irises of his eyes. Lucian knew he could not resist the Change for long, not once the full moon rose tomorrow night.
    Please, he prayed, do not let me transform in front of Sonja! He could not bear the thought of her seeing him reduced to a slavering beast. Give me the strength to hold back the Change until we reach Ordoghaz and can go our separate ways!
    “Behold!” Soren called out as the outline of a dark stone tower could be glimpsed through the overhanging tree branches ahead. The entire procession quickened the pace as they spied the keep: a single imposing tower surrounded by a high wooden palisade. Crimson pennants waved in the wind atop the tower. “As you see, I spoke truly.”
    Not nearly so grand as Castle Corvinus, the keep was a welcome sight nonetheless. As it was impossible to journey all the way to Ordoghaz in a single night, the tower had been erected centuries ago to provide a safe haven for the vampires during the day. This particular keep was just one of several such way stations established across the continent.
    “At last,” Lady Ilona declared. “And none too soon.”
    The sky was already growing noticeably lighter in the east by the time the procession arrived at the gates of the palisade. Vertical timbers, sharply pointed at their tops, loomed before them.
    “Open up!” Soren bellowed at the heavy wooden doors. “The Lady Ilona and her party desire admittance.”
    Lucian knew that a small complement of lycans manned the keep at all times; it was a thankless and monotonous posting, often employed as a punishment. I would not want to be banished to this place, far from the comforts and camaraderie of the castle.
    Not to mention Sonja.
    The oaken doors swung inward, allowing the procession to pass through the gate into the bailey, a ring of cleared earth surrounding the tower. A fire pit burned inside the yard, filling the air with a smoky aroma.
    Primitive, compared with the castle, Lucian judged, assessing their accommodations, but serviceable enough. Within the impervious walls of the tower, Lady Ilona, Sonja, and their vampiric entourage could rest securely until the sun set once more.
    Or could they?
    The bailey seemed strangely quiet and abandoned. No lycan retainers hurried to greet the new arrivals. A sense of unease came over Lucian, and he sniffed the air warily. Beneath the pervasive smell of the smoke, he scented something else, something that sent an unaccountable chill down his spine. At first, he couldn’t place the troubling odor, but then it hit him.
    Garlic.
    What the devil? he thought. It was a myth that garlic repelled vampires, but foolish mortals still relied on the pungent herb to shield them from the immortals they so feared. Why would the bailey reek of garlic, unless…?
    “Beware!” Lucian called out in alarm. Hurling the furled tapestry to the ground, he drew his wolf’s-head dagger. “It’s a trap!”
    His warning came seconds too late. The oaken doors slammed shut, trapping the party inside the bailey. Lucian heard the sound of rushing feet beyond the wooden fence and visualized scores of humans running out of the forest to barricade the gates from the outside.
    “By the Elders!” Lady Ilona exclaimed. Lucifer reared up in surprise. “What is the meaning of this?”
    A barrage of flaming arrows rained down on the yard from the walkway atop the palisade, where dozens of mortal longbowmen suddenly revealed themselves. At least five blazing shafts