by K. M. Scott
“I don’t know, but they weren’t expecting it. That’s for sure. Maybe witches killed them?” he said, unsure what could have happened to these five vampires.
“I have no idea. All I care about is they’re dead, but it is strange. It’s like all the blood’s been drained out of them, but where is it? I didn’t see a drop of blood anywhere in this room or in this building.”
“Maybe they killed themselves with that Bliss stuff,” Theron suggested, remembering what he heard from Sion and Kali about the effects of that drug on vampires. “I hear that shit is bad.”
“That might make sense if they weren’t stacked up like books on a shelf. Someone did this to them.”
“Damn. I didn’t think about that. I was too busy being surprised that we don’t get to kill tonight,” Theron joked.
Looking around the room, Ramiel’s gaze darted left and right as he slammed the closet door shut. “Keep your wits about you. Something’s wrong here, and I’m not sure it’s witches. Let’s go.”
They took two steps toward the door and then slowly it began to open. They raised their arms, clutching their stakes in their hands, and watched as a woman appeared in front of them. Theron looked closely at her, unable to clearly see her face in the darkness of the room only broken by the faint moonlight coming in through a window on the far wall. Was this one of the Archons’ staff who had been fortunate enough to escape the fate her co-workers and boss had met?
Ramiel flicked on the light switch and Theron’s breath caught in his chest. There in front of him stood his mother just as she’d looked the last time he saw her alive.
But it was impossible. Whatever this was, whatever trick someone was playing on them, she wasn’t there. She couldn’t be.
His father stepped forward closer to her as she said his name in a soft voice Theron struggled to believe wasn’t hers. “Ramiel, I’ve waited for you.”
“Dad, don’t touch her. I don’t know what this is, but she’s not Mom.”
It seemed like he didn’t hear his warning at all. Ramiel smiled, and whatever this was reached out to touch his face like Noele used to. Again, she repeated his name.
“Ramiel, have you missed me?”
“Dad, back up! That’s not Mom. Don’t let her get too close!” Theron shouted, but his father didn’t pay attention to anything he said. He seemed mesmerized, like whatever this was controlled his mind.
“I’ve missed you so much, Noele,” he whispered and then closed his eyes.
Instantly, the woman changed from the beautiful image of his mother to a monstrous creature with horrible black eyes and claws at the end of its arms. From behind its body, it pulled a stake and held it high above its head.
“Courtesy of Hades.”
Theron lunged toward the thing as he yelled, “Get back, Dad! It’s a daemon! Back away!” But he didn’t reach his father in time.
The stake ripped through his chest toward its goal, and Ramiel turned to face his son, his eyes wide in surprise and his expression contorted into one of agony. He looked at Theron and said in a low voice, “I’ll tell her about you. She’ll be so proud.”
And then he disappeared into dust, gone from the room as Theron stood in shock at how quickly it happened.
Another daemon appeared beside the first and looking much like its twin. They both held stakes in their hands and rushed Theron as he stood stunned at what had happened. Pushing them away, he tore their weapons from their hold and threw them onto the desk behind him. The daemons seemed stunned for a moment, looking at each other like they couldn’t believe he’d overpowered them.
“Why isn’t he in agony?” one asked as the other shook its head. “He should be in pain after touching us.”
Theron didn’t know what they meant and didn’t care. Inside him, a toxic blend of sadness and loss at watching his father die in front of him mixed with the rage that never seemed too far from the surface for him. He hated the Archons for taking his mother, so he killed Archons. Now he hated daemons for taking his father, so he’d kill them all too.
Pure fury erupted in him, and he lunged at the daemon closest to him. He ripped its head off and threw it aside, and then he tore it limb from limb until there was nothing left but pieces of the fucking creature. It all happened so fast even he didn’t know what to make of it.
The other daemon watched in horror but didn’t move. Theron grabbed hold of it and repeated his massacre of the creature just as he had its partner. Arms, legs, fingers, toes, eyes, ears flew around him as he tore the thing to pieces.
When he finished, the anger and hatred he felt hadn’t subsided. It had actually grown from his murder of the two daemons. His emotions churned inside him, threatening to overwhelm the young vampire. He’d lost his mother, and now his father was gone too.
And all he could think about was avenging their deaths with as much rage as he could hold inside him.
Theron looked around at the bloodbath that filled the floor near him. Pieces of those fucking creatures hung off his clothes and skin, sickening him. Dropping to his knees, he closed his eyes and let out a cry of agony that shook the windowpanes. His body began to grow numb as he replayed Ramiel’s death over and over in his mind.
“You fucks! I swear I’ll find every one of you and rip you apart with my bare hands. Hades! I’m coming for you!”
He hadn’t been able to save his father. Ever since his mother died, Theron had been convinced that if he had been with her, he could have protected her from the Archons. Now he knew that wasn’t true. Even with all the powers he possessed, he couldn’t stop that daemon from staking his father.
His hands shook uncontrollably from the anger that coursed through his body. Killing Ramiel’s murderer wasn’t enough. Killing the other daemon who tried to stake him wasn’t enough. He doubted anything would ever be enough to assuage his need to avenge what had been done to his family.
For all his strength and power, he had no control over his emotions and there in that Archon’s office where he and his father had come to eliminate yet another of the vampires responsible for his mother’s death, he broke down and cried. Covered in daemon blood and the remnants of their bodies that clung to his skin, he sobbed until there were no more tears left to cry.
He was as he’d always been—the child the prophecy said would defeat the Archons and rule the vampire world. What that meant to him now he didn’t know. All he knew was he had no one left. His enemies had taken everyone he loved from him.
Now all that existed in him was pure, unadulterated hate. Every part of him, every nook and cranny of his being, filled with the need to kill everything Archon and daemon.
And he would end his murder spree by killing the one who sent the creature who killed his father.
Hades.
Chapter Twelve
The image of his son’s eyes full of pain remained in Ramiel’s mind, seared there for eternity. He’d spend the rest of time there in the Underworld, but his heart would forever be in the world above with Theron.
Regret filled him. He hadn’t even been given the chance to see Leta before that daemon took his life. Not that he didn’t bear the responsibility for that. It’s just that he always thought he’d have more time. More chances to see his daughter after the war ended and he could give her a home again.
More time to do all the things a father should do for his daughter.
Now that would never happen. She’d stay with Ilona and Terek for good, their child to raise from this point on. It gave him little happiness to admit she couldn’t have better surrogate parents.
So finally he’d come to the place where all vampires eventually ended up. The Underworld, the realm of Hades. One of his daemons had killed Ramiel, so he assumed it wouldn’t be long now before he met the ruler of this dark place and found out his ultimate fate.
He didn’t know what to expect. What he knew of the god of the Underworld came from a smattering of memories from his time as a slave in the Roman Empire. Hades didn’
t have a dedicated following like other gods and goddesses, so most of what Ramiel thought of him had more to do with the threats those in authority used to terrorize those they ruled. The fear of meeting that god was real for children and slaves back then.
His feet seemed to know the way through the dark passageway, even if he didn’t. He suspected that had something to do with Hades’ power in this place. Trying to focus his eyes in the pitch black that surrounded him, Ramiel saw nothing but sensed he wouldn’t spend the rest of eternity simply walking in the darkness. That didn’t seem like much of a punishment, and if there was anything waiting for him, he knew full well it would involve the god of this place making him pay for being vampire and denying him his due all these centuries.
As the fog in his brain cleared with every step, Ramiel’s heart began to beat faster. Noele was already here. He’d get to see her again, finally. For as much as the memory of the last vision of Theron made him sad, seeing the only female he’d ever loved made his spirit soar.
He didn’t allow himself to think of how she’d been treated in her time in the Underworld. A hint of doubt crept into his mind, but he quickly pushed it out. Noele was the strongest female he’d ever encountered in hundreds of years of being alive. No matter what Hades had done to punish her, she was okay. He’d see her again, and she’d be just like she was when they were happy in their life above.
She had to be okay. He couldn’t go on if she wasn’t.
As if this place could read his mind, he suddenly saw a light that illuminated the rocky tunnel he walked in and saw a figure at the end. Was that Noele? Ramiel strained to see that far, but with each step the being seemed to fade a little more until finally he reached the light but no one waited for him.
“This way, vampire.”
He turned to see who’d spoken and found himself standing next to a young male dressed only in what looked like a loincloth. Quickly, he looked down his body to see if that’s how he was dressed, but he saw he still wore the clothes he’d died in, thankfully. Being dead was bad enough. Having to wear a fucking loincloth would be insult to injury.
A voice inside his head whispered, “Clothes, like much around you, are an illusion you create here. Pay little attention to things like that.”
Ramiel stopped dead at those words. Who was that speaking to him? Was it loincloth boy?
He waited for him to say something, but the young male just kept walking. So if it wasn’t him who said that, who was it?
Already, Ramiel hated this place. Fucking mind games from nearly the moment he arrived didn’t impress him. He just hoped this wouldn’t be how he’d spend the rest of time. That would be just his luck.
Eternity dealing with high school bullshit.
“Where am I going?” he asked loincloth boy.
“Where you belong,” he answered in a low voice but didn’t bother to look at him when he spoke.
So now they had moved on from mind games to riddles. Just wonderful. If there was one thing Ramiel hated, it was fucking riddles.
He sized up the boy escorting him and thought he could take him. Not even half his size, the kid would probably beg for mercy and tell him anything he wanted to know if he even laid a finger on him.
Just as that thought settled into his brain, the voice from earlier returned. “The boy doesn’t know anything. Hurting him would be a futile effort and would only anger me.”
This time, the voice spoke in an ominous tone, and Ramiel had a feeling he was being threatened. “Then just have him tell me where the hell I’m walking to and there won’t be any problems.”
He expected the boy to at least look over to see if he was speaking to him, but he just kept walking as if Ramiel hadn’t just announced to whoever was in his damn head that he had ideas about hurting the kid.
All of this only served to piss the Son off, bringing out the Visigoth in him that he had a feeling would be front and center for all his time in this place. Having Hades chat him up in his head already bored him. Mind games seemed to be beneath a god, but then again, what did he know? He hadn’t exactly spent his existence around them. Maybe this was what they did to have fun.
Ramiel didn’t care. All he cared about was seeing Noele again. He hoped that Hades with his mind reading bullshit was listening loud and clear at that moment and would have her waiting for him when he finally got to wherever the hell loincloth boy was taking him.
“So how much further?” he asked the kid, relatively sure he wouldn’t get an answer or even a riddle this time.
And he was right. He remained silent and just continued walking down the rocky path surrounded by stone walls on each side.
Then, he suddenly turned and the two of them were standing outside a wooden door. It reminded Ramiel of the kind of doors Vasilije’s monastery had. Heavy and old. That sort of fit, actually. The Romanian and Hades did remind him of one another.
His mind began to race with thoughts of the past, but he didn’t want that. He needed to focus. Soon he’d see Noele, and he wanted all his attention to be exclusively on her.
“You’ll stay here until you’re summoned. Don’t bother trying to leave this room. You can’t,” loincloth boy said before walking away, leaving Ramiel standing in front of the closed door.
Was this his room alone, or was it someone else’s and now he was being added? Was this Noele’s room? His heart began pounding in his chest. He imagined the Underworld had millions of occupants, so they probably had to share rooms. He hung his head and chuckled at how stupid that sounded. None of this was real anyway. The voice had told him that.
He looked down at his clothes once again to make sure they hadn’t changed into a ridiculous loincloth like the boy’s. The last thing he wanted his wife to see him wearing was something like that.
Ramiel lifted his hand to knock on the door but then let it fall to his side. He didn’t have to knock on his wife’s door.
Turning the handle, he slowly pushed the door open and looked in. The room looked like some old English castle with wood beams across the ceiling. The walls didn’t look like the craggy stone ones from the hallway. Instead, they were made of stone blocks cut uniformly. If he didn’t know better, Ramiel would have said this place looked perfectly medieval.
Why did Noele stay in a room that looked like this? If the voice was right, then she could have made it look like anything she desired. Or was this his doing? No. Ramiel wouldn’t construct this reality for her. His wife had never been a fan of medieval architecture either. That sounded more like…
And then he saw the reason why this place looked like it did.
Standing in front of him next to a large table perfect for the castle he’d created was his old partner, Thane. He wasn’t Noele, but he was a sight for sore eyes.
“Ramiel,” he said sadly, shaking his head.
“Thane.”
He opened his arms and walked toward Ramiel, clearly emotional about this reunion. “I’m so happy to see you and so unhappy at the same time because of what this means.”
As he embraced his old friend, Ramiel felt the loss of what he’d been in life all too well suddenly. He’d been able to push it down as he walked with the loincloth kid and focused on everything else happening to him, but now as another Son of Navarus long gone from their ranks stood there with him in the Underworld, it all became too real.
His time in the world of the living had ended, and now he was in the Underworld for the rest of eternity.
Thane stepped back and forced a smile. “You look good.”
“I’m told this is all an illusion,” he answered, unsure what his friend was seeing. Hopefully, it wasn’t that fucking loincloth or anything else as stupid.
“It is and it isn’t,” Thane said with a shrug. “You’ll get used to it. What did you think of the big guy himself?” he asked with a wide-eyed look.
“Hades? I didn’t see him. The guy brought me directly here. And not that I don’t love seeing you again, Thane, but I really want to see
Noele. Where is she?”
Instead of immediately telling him where his wife was, Thane winced and turned away to walk back to the table. Lifting a bottle of wine, he looked back and asked, “Want a drink? This is one of those illusion things, so if you’d rather have something other than wine, just say it. It’s one of the few perks around here that are really great.”
Perks? What the fuck was he talking about? Ramiel didn’t care that there was a great selection of alcoholic beverages in the Underworld. He asked about Noele and the answer he got from Thane was an offer to have a drink together? What was going on?
Ramiel took a step toward the table and stopped as his friend sat down in a chair that looked like an old English throne. The Son had gotten pretty fucking comfortable in this place, it seemed.
“I don’t want a drink. I want Noele. Where is she? Why are you acting like that wouldn’t be the first goddamned thing I’d ask when I arrived here? I want to see her.”
“I’m not in charge of that. Hades is. If he wants you to see her, you’ll get to. Just relax. Everything will be fine.”
What the fuck had happened to Thane? Everything will be fine? He was a Son of Navarus, not some loincloth wearing boy who did Hades’ bidding and relaxed until it was his time.
Ramiel planted his palms on the table in front of his friend and looked down at him. “You seem to be pretty cozy here. Having a good time? Maybe we could get you some fucking minstrels to come in and perform a tune for you. What the fuck has happened to you, man? You were a Son—are a Son—and you sit here like you’re some bird in a cage.”
Thane sighed and took a sip of wine. “This place changes you. I know you won’t understand that for a while since it takes some time, but you’ll get used to it. Figure out the rules and play by them and this place isn’t too bad. You’ll probably do even better than I have since it took me a while to get the hang of the place.”
What the hell was he talking about?
