Undeading Bells (Fred Book 6)

by Hayes, Drew

  I assumed that was me being worrisome and paranoid—my standard mode when trouble was about—until Arch muttered under his breath and adjusted his position. For most people, that would have meant nothing, especially as we clung for dear life to the bed of a magically animated truck. But Arch was not most people; his only tic was the cigarettes. Other than that, he rarely wasted movement, and never words. Something had his attention, and there were a limited number of potential options for what could manage that.

  Sure enough, as we tore through a section of forest, swerving in the direction indicated by a massive branch snapped into an awkward angle, my nose caught the whiff of other bodies. I couldn’t catch a single sound or sight; however, a vampire’s nose is an extremely potent detection tool. Even with that advantage, it soon became clear that I was the last to notice our pursuers.

  “Here’s how it’s going to work,” Arch said, talking loud enough to be heard through the open glass by those in the cab. “The agents are expecting one of the traps to take out our vehicle, after which point, they’d converge on us. To do that, they’re spread out, capable of reacting no matter which point we’re at. When we break through the end of this area, they’ll need to regroup. That’s when June and I hop off.”

  “You going to fight them?” Krystal called from behind the wheel.

  “Certainly not. But it has been some time since I held a teaching session on the subject of ambushes. Let’s see who’s been keeping up with their training, and who gets to spend some practice time with me next month.”

  Despite knowing they were on our heels to halt our wedding, a piece of me felt a great swell of sympathy for any agents who failed Arch’s exam—which I had to assume would be most of them.

  A sudden bump nearly tossed us out; only good reactions and keen grips saved us as the truck literally jumped over a small pit we’d almost careened into. Nearby was a smoking husk of ground and a tree trunk that looked like it had been punched over. This must have been their final line where the traps were piled thick. Deborah had torn a hole right through their defenses, and thanks to her guidance, we threaded the needle by the thinnest of margins, the truck’s right side taking scratches from a tree we were pressed against.

  Then, we were through, breaking into another small clearing. It was a momentary respite as Krystal eased off the gas, slowing us down to allow for the departures.

  “Don’t bother. I heal, and June is nimble.” Arch spat the command literally the moment he jumped over the side. There was a disconcerting bump, like we’d hit something human-sized, yet Arch was unbothered as he used the momentum of his roll to spring to his feet. A soft thud came seconds later as June hopped out, landing light and easy.

  The next two sounds of landing were far less graceful. With one, came the rattling of a scabbard and the ancient weapon held within. From the other, a selection of “oofs” and grunts, along with the jangle of countless unseen tools below his robes.

  Arch and June stood, waiting for the assault of agents as planned. Only, they weren’t alone. Without any warning or discussion, Neil and Albert had leapt out of the truck, too.

  11.

  “Krystal, stop!” I glanced inside, noticing that her wrestling match with the steering wheel had only gotten more violent.

  “Not really an option! I’ll slow us down and try to run in a circle.” With a forceful effort, she jerked the wheel to the right, putting us on a loop back toward Neil and Albert. I didn’t actually need to get close to hear their argument with Arch; my keen ears had been on that since the moment they’d touched the ground.

  It wasn’t often Arch was caught off guard, and he was visibly annoyed about the anomaly. “What do you two think you’re doing?”

  In response, Neil pointed in four directions, one after the other. “We were tracking the pursuers, too. There’s four teams converging, meaning the numbers are too high to effectively delay, at least according to the way our instructor taught us to analyze combat situations.”

  “Your limits and mine are not the same.”

  “Arch, the kids aren’t wrong. Even for us, this is still a lot.” June was stretching, though her standard daggers were nowhere to be seen. This was, after all, the equivalent of a sparring match, a surprise training session thrown by the Agency’s top teacher. “You’ve been drilling them for years. There’s no way they aren’t semi-competent. We could use the help.”

  In a rare display, Arch appeared uncertain. He shook his head, hand touching the pocket with his cigarettes once before dropping to his side. “It’s not about them being able to help. Right now, you boys are a side project, a novelty the Agency lets me spend time on because I’ve earned that much leash. If you do this, word will travel back. I’m not saying you’ll be drafted into working as agents, but there’s no more flying under the radar. Once you show people what you can do, it’s out there for good.”

  “I can’t speak for Neil, but I haven’t spent all this time training to not help when my friends need me.” Albert’s cheery smile was in place, and his sword was sheathed. This had nothing to do with his enchanted blade: it was merely the kind of man Albert had grown into, even as his body remained largely unchanged.

  While I couldn’t imagine any of us expected differently, Neil remained planted at his best friend’s side, even laying a hand on Albert’s shoulder. “Same here. Besides, I can’t leave Albert to show off on his own. The show really works best as a two-hander.”

  As this conversation was occurring, we were drawing ever closer to them; however, the fight inside was growing more difficult. Richard reached over across the now vacant seats, gripping the wheel and adding his substantial might to the struggle. Just as the pair got control, Arch signaled for them to go.

  “Is he serious?” Krystal asked.

  “They’re all serious,” I replied. “And I don’t think there’s any changing of minds to be had on this one.”

  She hesitated briefly, then nodded to Richard, and together, they yanked the wheel back around, aiming us toward the approximate area we needed to go. The escape was on once more, and sincerely, not a second too soon. Since I was in the bed—the last remaining person there, in fact—I could look back at our four defenders as they held the line. Without sound or warning, the trees around them suddenly boiled with motion. Darkness seeped out; moments later, I realized it was agents dressed in black clothing, moving with such synchronization that they genuinely appeared to be one entity.

  None of which was especially helpful when Arch dropped a flash grenade to the ground, drawing a huge spat of cursing and yells as half the agents were suddenly blinded. Anyone without natural night vision would be using tech or spells, both of which increased the eyes’ sensitivity to light.

  I could just make out Arch’s words, carried over on the Texas winds.

  “I see some of you ignored my advice to master the art of moving without sight and are still relying on rudimentary tools. Let us hope you took the blind-fighting lessons more seriously.”

  One of the agents stumbled over, and like flowing water, Arch eased past him, coming away with a gun and the knife from the man’s belt. “Oh my, not even properly securing our weapons? Capleson, that’s going to be a week of extra training.”

  Another agent made a real attempt for Arch, coming at him from behind, only for him to easily step aside during her lunge, sending her sprawling to the grass. “Avels, that’s a week of stealth work for you. I heard those heavy steps before you were even close to attacking.”

  Funnily enough, it seemed like the agents were a lot more interested in Arch now that he’d presented himself as a target. After watching for only a few seconds, it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Between the prideful ones looking to prove themselves and the vengeful ones he’d put through training, there were no shortage of agents happy to take a swing at Arch. And he was only warming up.

  “Neil, Albert, why don’t you take the group near you through defensive maneuver seven? It should be familiar for the
ones who paid attention at my last lecture.”

  Curious as I was to see those two in action, just as they were moving, we broke into the trees, my vision once more obscured. Turning to the cab, I was struck by the emptiness that remained. Only Krystal and Richard were still inside; everyone else had traded their seat for a chance to buy us a little more time. With every step forward, the goal seemed more and more unreachable. We were shedding allies at a rapid pace, and at this point, the next one we lost would sink the entire venture. We couldn’t very well get married without two partners and someone to perform the ceremony.

  The upside was that we had actually managed to make substantial progress. I was even starting to pick out a few familiar features of the landscape from our initial trip. Had we been in a more traditional vehicle, I suspected functions would have begun to fail; this was close enough to be inside the discouragement field. Either by the sheriff’s will or Amy’s potion, the truck was holding together; in fact, it was picking up speed as we bounded through the trees.

  For a fleeting second, as the branches whizzed by and the entrance to the clearing grew closer, I permitted myself to wonder if we’d actually managed this impossible plan. It was a ludicrous notion. The whole thing had been a Hail Mary from the start, yet it was hard not to hope. That idea was brought to an immediate halt at the same time as our truck.

  This was not like with Deborah, a gradual decline in speed. No, the truck dug in so hard there were tracks in the ground, half tire, half claw. It stopped with all its might, lowering to the ground and whimpering. Only my vampire strength kept me from flying out over the cab. There wasn’t a clearing this time, not that we needed one to see who were up against. If this entity was more instinctually terrifying than Deborah, there were only a few contenders to choose from.

  “Agent Jenkins, your uproarious nature is not unknown to us. In fact, we sometimes count it as an asset. There is certainly a place in this organization for those who take to trouble with gusto; however, one must be capable of recognizing their limitations. I believe I made my feelings on this clear.”

  Director Waxwood stepped into view from behind a tree. She looked exactly the same as she had in the meeting. I had a hunch she hadn’t even taken a break since then—habitual workers can smell our own. There was no anger or malevolence in her expression. She had the same look of bored detachment worn by any manager enforcing a company rule they had no stakes in, which was odd, given that she was the one who’d blocked our wedding.

  “You show me the official, treaty-backed, legal loophole that lets you cancel a wedding on a whim, and I’ll turn myself in,” Krystal countered.

  “Technically speaking, all I have done is pull my support. But Agent Jenkins, please don’t act as if I’m some mad monster here. You know what Fredrick Fletcher represents, should his abilities pan out. To the Blood Council, to vampire kind as a whole. Connecting him to our protections, however tangentially, creates an immensely complicated matter. I’m not wrong to insist we consider the situation thoroughly before making such a bold decision.”

  “No, you’re not wrong.” This voice belonged to neither Krystal nor Director Waxwood, and it held far too much confidence to be mine. From behind an entirely different tree, one that was much too small to conceal his bulk, Sheriff Thorgood stepped into view. “But that’s your problem to deal with. Responsibility comes with position and power; they’re just a couple of kids in love.”

  Director Waxwood’s eyes narrowed. “I might have known you’d be involved. You never were good at keeping a macro view of things. Too prone to getting hung up on individuals.”

  “I know. That’s why you took a country, and I took a town,” Sheriff Thorgood replied. His jovial tone dimmed slightly, and I caught a stern look in his eyes. “A town that I’ll remind you we are still inside the boundaries of. Just because I’ve been playing nice doesn’t mean I can’t get serious. One must be capable of recognizing their limitations, right?”

  “You think to mock me?”

  There was a playful shine in Sheriff Thorgood’s expression; that was hard to deny. “I think to remind you that not everyone says ‘how high’ when you say ‘jump.’ Sometimes, it’s good for you not to get your way. Builds character.”

  In truth, I’d expected the director of the Agency to be above such simple barbs and taunts. More evolved. But regardless of how magical or powerful a being was, family was still family, and nobody gets under our skin like those we love. All of her focus seemed to have left us as she stared daggers at Leeroy. Overhead, clouds I was sure hadn’t been there previously swirled, momentarily blocking out the stars.

  “For that, you insist on taking the mortals’ side, yet again. I’ll never understand what compels you to this. What madness drives you to make such poor choices? Or is it truly nothing more than overdeveloped sentimentality?”

  “The answer could be a lot of reasons. Depends on the situation.” Sheriff Thorgood was moving now, his bulky frame ambling along at the same casual speed as always, heading in the direction of our truck. “In this particular case, it’s actually your fault.”

  I hadn’t thought Director Waxwood could look much more bothered, but the fact that several patches of grass near her suddenly wilted definitely added to the overall effect. While she fumed, Sheriff Thorgood leaned down to the driver’s window, winked, and mouthed five brief words. Krystal began to tear up, but there was no time for a reply. Director Waxwood had finally found her voice.

  “And how, pray tell, is you inserting yourself into Agency business without due cause my fault?”

  “Because a long time ago, the person these beings would call my big sister taught me to always keep my promises. I gave my word to Agent Jenkins that I would her give away, you see. So that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  There was no warning, no time to react. For all his gentle movements, it turned out Sheriff Leeroy Thorgood was beyond fast when properly motivated. He lifted the truck off the ground with both arms, no visible effort or strain on his face as he looked around just once to take aim.

  “Pretty sure this isn’t how the job is supposed to work, just playing it by ear. I’ll hold her off, but don’t dilly-dally. We can only play so much before the town would be demolished.”

  That was the entirety of our warning before Sheriff Thorgood hurled our entire truck over the trees and into the sky. A bit of extra push from his right hand in the launch put us in a spin once we were airborne, forcing me to direct my entire focus into clinging to the side of the truck. Our vehicle was whining from my hands digging into its metal/armor, though that just as easily may have been my own terrified screams ringing in my ears. It was a very real mercy that vampires are incapable of vomiting, or my stomach’s contents would have stained many a treetop.

  Something hitting my leg nearly tore me loose from the ride as we cleared the last of the treetops. I initially assumed it to be a rogue branch clinging to my slacks; unfortunately, a single look down afforded to me by the rotating truck was more than enough to see the actual source. One of the drawbacks to being massive and muscular was that standardized items, such as seatbelts, rarely fit.

  That was likely why Richard had been thrown free in the chaos, or perhaps the nausea had been too much. Whatever the reason, I got a good look at the man who was supposed to be performing our ceremony, clinging onto the top of a tree as we spun off through the air on a crash course with our wedding venue.

  12.

  Until the moment we came down, I was sure that we would crash. That would be more annoyance than issue; I healed from such injuries and Krystal would only grow more dangerous from a would-be lethal accident. As it turned out, I should have had more faith in Sheriff Thorgood, as well as remembered that the grove was no mere assembly of trees.

  Just as the truck came plummeting down, branches shot up from all directions, catching us and carefully killing our momentum. In seconds, we were moving steadily along a river of shifting branches. They carried us along, fi
nally depositing Krystal’s transformed truck onto the ground. The enchanted vehicle collapsed, panting like a hound after a run.

  Happy as I was to be uninjured, in that moment, I was more struck by how lovely the venue truly was. In the time since we’d left, there were new buildings grown, and the flower-lights had increased in number and spectrum of colors. There were no decorations, those were scheduled to go up later in the day, yet I could picture how they’d have looked, and it was dazzling.

  Shaking off the effects of the fall and the surroundings, I hustled down to the driver’s side door, just in time to watch Krystal force it open and come tumbling out. I caught her by chance, the two of us standing in the light of the trees, finally at our venue. She looked up at me, smiling despite the fact that we’d unequivocally lost.

  “Richard caught a bad spin and went flying out. Doesn’t look like we’re getting hitched tonight.”

  “You never know. Maybe there’s an online certification I can sign up for quick.”

  “No cell service out here; although, Douglas could have WIFI.” Krystal looked a bit surprised when the trees around us shook, almost as if they were laughing at her joke. “We came really close, though. Even making it this far is crazy.”

  She wasn’t wrong, especially when I thought back to all the powerful pursuers on our tail. Nevertheless, we had made it. Whatever the fallout, we were here. Might as well enjoy it while we could.

  Stepping back, I offered the crook of my arm. “Want to go walk down the aisle? Call it practice for next time.”

  “What the hell. We at least deserve a taste of it.” Undoing the belt of her oversized coat, Krystal allowed the garment to fall away, revealing her wedding dress to me for the first time. It was surprisingly normal—at least in appearances. No sheathes or gun pouches, just a beautiful white dress elevated to gorgeous by virtue of its model. She was a vision, a living dream who stepped gracefully to my side.

  Wordlessly, we walked, arm in arm, through the section of the grove where we would have set up the chairs. It wasn’t far from a fictional buffet table and a hypothetical dance floor, to say nothing of the planned bar. So many hours of effort to create a single night that had ultimately been in vain. Yet my heart was light as we reached the point where the aisle would have begun. Even if it wasn’t the result we’d wanted, I’d still made it here with the woman I loved. It was hard not to be a little happy in the moment.