8 прогулок по Москве. Путеводитель. Андрей Монамс
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yet she knew that she’d never laid eyes on him before this moment. It was an odd recognition, one that seemed born not of simple acknowledgment but of a deep and lustful craving. She forced the thought from her mind and regained her composure as he advanced another few steps.
His eyes were trained on her even as he reached over his shoulder and drew the weapon strapped to his back. The crossbow, equipped with three arrows, was aimed at her heart as he took another step forward. This was it, she told herself, the confrontation she’d been both dreading and anticipating when she’d set out on this mission. Her time had come to prove herself.
In one fluid motion, Tatiana brought her arms out before her. As her hands formed the sacred symbol of her clan, she uttered the final word to complete the spell. A burst of energy exploded, surging forward in rippling waves of light that washed through the throng of gargoyles, sending many to the ground, but only slowing Lucien’s advance.
Rage contorted his face and he leaped into the air, avoiding the second wave of energy. His bow found its mark again and this time the arrows were released.
Tatiana sprang backward in a graceful flip, the arrows just missing her to strike the platform, splintering on impact. Lucien hovered above ground and for another instant their eyes locked. He hadn’t even been affected. She definitely hadn’t expected this—a creature who could successfully evade one of her most powerful spells. A ripple of fear cascaded down her spine as she watched him draw three more arrows from the quiver at his back.
Two of her Uniil
The other gargoyles were recovering and looking on in anticipation, likely waiting for their leader to spill the blood of the vile creatures who had dared to invade their lair. Deftly, Lucien slipped the arrows into place and aimed the crossbow as before.
Tatiana stood her ground, channeling every ounce of her ability. “Get down.” She gritted out the words as she tossed the members of her clan a look over her shoulder. This was going to be big—really big.
The ground beneath her began to smolder as if the gates of hell had opened, and a charred pentagram appeared around her. As the three arrows sprang from Lucien’s crossbow, she bent, slamming a fist into the concrete platform. It shattered and a towering geyser of flame shot through, engulfing her and incinerating the arrows before they found their mark.
The force from the volcanic eruption shattered the multiple glass windows near the ceiling and blew out one portion of a wall. Lucien and several members of his clan were thrust backward, smashing into the stacks of old crates that crowded the large room.
As the holocaust died, Tatiana stood slowly, black smoke rising from her otherwise undamaged attire. She turned to her squad and the Solomonarii prisoners. “Let’s go.” She raced toward the gaping hole, snatching up the gun of one of her fallen Uniil
Outside, the moon held court, lighting the way as they hastened toward the hole that had been cut in the barbed fence that surrounded the property. Tatiana held it open as each member of her team slipped through.
Behind them the gargoyles poured from the factory, smashing through shattered window frames and ripping through walls. Tatiana’s heart raced and her knees threatened to buckle. She was spent. Her abilities wouldn’t return for another few hours.
As the last member of her Uniil
“Go! Go!” Tatiana ordered as she hurried to join them.
She pulled her motorcycle upright and grabbed the wrist of her second in command. “Ciprian, you have to lead them to safety. No matter what happens, you have to keep going.”
He nodded, his eyes reflecting understanding. Tatiana would do anything to protect her own. She would go to any lengths and risk anything—she was ready to die for them.
Lucien Korzah marched through the gaping hole in the wall of the old factory. He flexed the thick muscles of his neck and shoulders, snapping a vertebra back into place. A deep growl rumbled within his throat as he surveyed the scene playing out before him. The Solomonarii were fleeing on motorcycles, unloading their weapons at the members of his clan who skillfully pursued them.
He had had his fill of these wretched witches. For centuries the Solomonarii had plagued the land, preying upon humans as they’d spread destruction and cruelty in their quest for greater power and wealth. The gargoyle clans had allied to place a rein upon the vicious attacks. They were guardians by birthright and had thus been unable to simply lurk within the shadows while so many innocent had suffered. Their uprising had started a war that even to this day promised no end.
Lucien and his clan of seventy-five warriors were determined to bring it to a grinding conclusion. When most of the gargoyle clans fostered hope of restoring peace to the region, the Drago clan members were strictly mercenaries. They were a band of warriors, gathered over the centuries, who had but one mission—to bring the Solomonarii to extinction.
That wouldn’t be achieved by slaughtering them all, but by destroying the very core of the affliction. Demetrius Borimirov, the leader of the Solomonarii. He hungered for absolute power and would stop at nothing to obtain it. This Lucien had learned as a child as he’d watched the breath slip from his father’s body. And now, centuries later, Lucien would not rest until his father’s murderer suffered the same fate.
Great wings began to beat and Lucien leaped into the shrouding darkness of the night sky. With speed fueled by the animosity that raged within him, he headed purposefully toward the fleeing Solomonarii. The revving of motorcycle engines and rapid gunfire did nothing to soothe his demons. He would have his revenge.
Tatiana shot a desperate glance over her shoulder. At this rate they would never make it. The gargoyles were gaining on them too quickly. For the members of her clan, there was only one way out of this alive—something would have to be sacrificed.
She squeezed the brake on her engine, slowing to a moderate speed. As the distance between her and the members of her clan grew, the incensed roars of her enemies smothered the sound of the other motorcycles. Tatiana turned her semiautomatic handgun skyward and with an unfaltering precision began shooting at the gargoyles. They swooped about like great bats, stalking their prey, but many fell from the sky, wounded if not dead.
Far ahead the taillights of the other motorcycles disappeared within an old mine shaft that stretched for miles and exited a short distance from the border of the Solomonarii lair. With wingspans ranging from twelve to sixteen feet, the gargoyles could never pass into it. Her plan had worked. She’d given them enough time to escape. Her fingers eased off the brake and she began to accelerate. If she could make it to the tunnel herself, she would be safe.
Overhead the screeching of the gargoyles persisted as they swooped, their clawlike hands grabbing at her. She swerved, just barely avoiding injury. Only a quarter of a mile left and she would be within the securing darkness of the tunnel.
Then it happened, so fast that she didn’t have time to duck. A huge shadow appeared in her path, blotting out the moon. It swooped, heading toward her with a speed that was bound to cause a ruinous collision.
Tatiana swerved as she tried to avoid it, but her motorcycle collapsed to the side and she went skidding off the road. The fall down the short decline tossed her from the motorcycle, and she struck a thick oak that shrouded the area.
She groaned and tried to sit up, but she was too weak. She could hear the sounds of heavy beating against the air. It slowed, and a large figure, silhouetted