Peter blew a breath, wiping sweat from his face. "I'd love to give it a whirl."
"Good." I turned as Richard moved up behind me, wiping the blood from his sword. "You drive the auto. Try to keep up."
I removed the riding goggles from the dead driver, happily noting that either Richard or Audrey had taken the silver rings from the bodies. Pulling the goggles on, I straddled the bike. Blood spattered the sidecar from its former occupant, but Peter crawled inside without complaint, sliding his newly plundered rifle between his legs.
"Hold on." I kick-started the engine, unleashing a loud roar. I maneuvered the bike around, a task made much harder with the sidecar, and started up the road.
Audrey hurried from the back of the truck and dove into the car. It started after me and moments later fire exploded from the truck, sending a ball of smoke into the sky.
Wind whipped at my cheeks and jacket. It had been over three years since I'd last ridden, and the rumble of the engine brought that familiar, exhilarating calm. My mind focused. The weapons were still our highest priority. The Nazis had stolen at least three of them in their conquests. Each one housed an angel, and only those the angel found worthy could wield their divine gifts. A Valducan knight is bound to their weapon. It is the single greatest honour to feel an angel's love. Not only had the Nazis stolen and hoarded their ill-gotten gains, they'd murdered the owners. And while I'd never met most of them, or even known their names, they were weapon-bound. That made them family. I gunned the engine and sped toward Wewelsburg Castle.
We passed through a tiny village, the lights out and windows shuttered. Either the occupants were still hiding from the distant bombings or had fled the approaching army. A few automobiles and carts, lashed with trunks and furniture, told that more would be leaving soon. The winding road turned and I could see the great black form of the fortress atop the hill, barely discernible against the night sky.
I slowed as we followed the steep, narrow road. Our disguises might work in staying the trigger fingers of any SS lurking in the trees, but not if we were driving as if on the attack.
The fortress itself was quite simple — two narrow, domed towers and a large, flat-topped one, the walls between them forming a triangle. But it was also the black heart of the SS, and the crown jewel of Hitler's mad vision. God only knew what horrors had transpired within those three stone walls. I'd never wanted to see such an evil place as this.
Reaching the hilltop, I steered us into a darkened car park. It was empty save for two vehicles — a civilian sedan and a blocky army wagon that appeared to have seen its share of combat. Bullet holes riddled the side and back, and a rear wheel was missing.
Damn, I thought. They've already left. They couldn't have made it far, and we knew they were headed to Augsburg. I rolled the motorcycle deeper into the car park, praying there might be a further portion that I'd missed. A cluster of buildings stood along one side. Barracks or offices, I guessed.
A single motorcycle rested in the shadow of the larger building. The car with the other knights rolled into the lot behind us. Its hooded lights provided meager help in seeing the castle grounds.
"What are you doing here?" a voice shouted.
I lifted my goggles to see a plain-clothed man racing from the barrack house.
He waved his hands above his head. "Go! Get out of here!"
He was almost upon us when Peter raised his StG 44 and leveled it on him.
"What are you doing, idiot?" the stranger shouted. "We need to…" His voice trailed off as he looked at me, seeming to really notice me for the first time. A woman in uniform was rare, but one driving a motorcycle was unheard of. "Who are you?"
"Keep your hands where I can see them," I ordered. "What are you doing here?"
"I… The castle," he stammered. "I'd heard it was abandoned."
I narrowed my eyes. The man could have been a villager. The Nazis had been known to tell the locals to loot as they retreated. It destroyed evidence before the Allies might seize it. But his mannerisms, shoulders back, and straight posture said soldier. "When did they leave?"
"A few hours ago."
The car's tires ground over the pavement and Dennis slowed to a stop behind us. I didn't move my eyes from the stranger.
"What's he saying," Peter hissed. He was the only member of our team that couldn't speak German. But his other skills, most especially Glisuan, had warranted his inclusion.
"He said we missed them by hours."
"We know that's bullshit."
"Don't shoot," I warned, sensing his intentions.
The man shifted nervously. Barely turning his head, he glanced behind him.
"Is there anyone else?" I demanded.
"No," the man said. "It's just me."
"Right hand," Peter said. "Ring."
The man must have understood some English because his straight fingers relaxed, curling and concealing the glint of silver on his right hand.
They're dressed as civilians. Those cars we passed might have been theirs. Damn it! "When did they leave?" I demanded. "Where's Macher?"
"They—"
The barracks behind him exploded with a terrible roar. Glass, splintered shutters, and flaming debris blasted from the windows. Without the sidecar, the concussion might have toppled my bike. Stunned, my ears wailing in a high-pitched buzz, I looked around. Fire consumed the building, illuminating the lot and the castle beside us. Oily smoke plumed into the sky.
The blast had knocked the Nazi to the ground. He scrambled up and started away toward his now fallen motorcycle, but Peter's gun barked two loud pops and the man staggered and fell. He rolled on the ground, clutching his hip.
The American turned to me, his goggled eyes wide. "Are you okay?" I could barely hear him.
"Yes," I forced myself to say. I gave a quick inspection that nothing was hurt or on fire. "I'm all right. You?"
"Good." He crawled out from the sidecar and started toward the injured man, his rifle trained.
A second explosion erupted to our left. Flames burst from one of the smaller castle towers. Bits of rock and wood rained down like hail stones. A section of wall lurched and fell away. Fiery smoke poured from the opening.
Choking on dust, I turned around, twisting in my saddle. They'd wired the building to blow. We needed to get out of here. The car's windscreen had shattered. "Is everyone all right?" I coughed.
Shielding his eyes from the flickering light, Richard pointed behind me. "Look!"
Whirling, I searched the smoke and shadows and gasped. Enormous, hunched figures poured out from the castle like rats fleeing a sinking ship. They ran from the smoking hole and clambered out the windows, scuttling up the walls.
A pair of beasts burst through the castle's double doors. They charged across the short, stone bridge toward us, running on all fours like albino, hairless gorillas. Snarling, the lead monster pounded toward the injured Nazi.
"I'm one of you!" the man shouted, holding up his bloodied hands.
The creatures slowed, their eyes locked on the silver ring.
"They are enemies of the Reich!" The man gestured our direction. "Kill them!"
To my amazement, the monsters followed his orders, aiming their charge toward us. Any assumptions I'd had that these were mere demons were instantly dashed. I ripped Feuertod from his sheath, ready to take them on.
Shots erupted to my right. Rifle at his shoulder, Peter fired at the creatures with rapid bursts. The lead one stumbled and the second one trampled over it. Bloody plumes exploded across its chest. The silver bullets definitely hurt them, but not enough to ensure a quick kill.
Staggering, the creature bellowed, spraying bloody froth. It swiped its claws at me, but I sidestepped the clumsy attack and slashed my rapier across its side. Split ribs peeled apart and the monster screamed. I moved to finish it off, but was forced back as a third beast leaped toward me. It swung its enormous arm, claws splayed. I raised Feuertod into the attack, bracing the sword with both hands. The blessed blade met the beast's forearm, slicing through the muscle and bone. Blood sprayed and the severed claw flew past my shoulder.