by S T Branton
“Sounds like he had it made,” I said.
Brax nodded. “That’s the thing—you’d think he did. I’m sure those poor serfs gave him everything he ever demanded. But once he became Apprenti to Lorcan, the whole kingdom went up in smoke. His palace, his gigantic family, every single thing that had ever been his was gone.” Brax snapped his fingers. “Like that. Not a trace left behind.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Wouldn’t that make him hate Lorcan’s guts? Why would he work for the douchebag who murdered his family?”
The demon looked at me like I was an idiot teenager. “Read between the lines, Vic. Lorcan didn’t kill Delano’s family. He did it himself as a fucked-up tribute to Lorcan. He made them an offering to prove the strength of his loyalty.”
I paced faster as my mind spun to make sense of what I had heard. A strange, acrid scent leaked into my nostrils, but I ignored it under the weight of my thoughts. Would Delano have done something that heinous merely to secure a spot at the right hand of a god? Suddenly, I remembered the way he had looked at me whenever we were face to face and the way his pale eyes could pierce to my core. And I knew that yes, he would.
Abraxzael’s rendering of the legend is crude but accurate, Marcus said. There is no reason to believe that those events did not occur as described. Delano may have seemed utterly subservient while Lorcan was alive, but his meek exterior is only a façade. He is as cold-blooded and ruthless as they come, and he would stop at nothing to secure his nefarious aspirations. If what Jerry says is true, if Delano has found a way to gain real power, there is no telling what he could do with it.
“We have to stop him,” I said. I lifted my head, and the weird smell from a few minutes ago struck me full force. I furrowed my brow. “What the fuck is that?”
Behind me, Jerry laughed. It was a wild, uneven sound, hampered slightly by his injuries and the smoke that now poured into the room from a line of roaring flames. One of the Viking’s larger wounds had begun to bleed a steady stream of fire, which we’d been too distracted to notice. Now, the room filled slowly with an inferno.
Brax lunged forward as Jerry’s chains snapped from heat and stress and the Viking managed to strike him square in the jaw. The demon stumbled backward from the unexpected force and out of the circle of fire.
“You morons!” Jerry jeered. “You thought you won because you got me to spill my guts about Delano, but the joke’s on you. It doesn’t matter what you know if you’re too dead to tell anyone else. Soon, this place will be nothing more than a pile of bones and ashes.”
“Damn it, Jerry!” I yelled. “This is how you repay us for letting you live?”
He didn’t reply at all except for more hoarse guffaws. The flames whirled in an orange curtain. I drew my sword and channeled all my frustration into forward momentum.
On the other side of the wall of fire, I could hardly see anything. Thick smoke stung my eyes and tried to push its way into my lungs. Using the outline of the boulder as my guide, I pressed forward until Jerry was right in front of me. He stood upright, no longer shackled.
“I’ll admit you’re braver than I thought you’d be,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re too late.”
“Fuck you,” I said as I raised the blade and ran it through his chest. “How about that?”
The Viking died without another word.
Before his body hit the floor, I slammed the Gladius Solis down at my feet and conjured a shield around me. The flames that licked at my skin were shoved back by the golden shell of protection. I knelt in front of the sword and concentrated on widening its range. Gradually, the fire receded. It consumed most of Jerry’s corpse with a voracious hunger, and finally, short on fuel, it began to fizzle out. I didn’t move a muscle until I was certain that a threat no longer existed. Only then did I allow the shield to come down.
Deacon and Brax moved forward as soon as I stood. “Are you okay?” I asked Brax. “He slugged you pretty good.”
The demon scowled. “It’s nothing. What about you? I haven’t seen too many fireproof humans.”
I glanced at my arms and the backs of my hands. All the hair had been singed off, and the surface was pink and blistered. It stung, but I was no stranger to pain, and I could already sense the nectar working in my blood.
“I’m fine,” I said. “And Jerry’s dead as shit. But most importantly, the church won’t burn down.”
Brax grumbled. “You never let me kill anyone important.”
I patted his shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
A ruckus outside drew our attention away from the dying embers of Jerry’s last stand. Old Smitty burst into the back room, wild-eyed, and brandished his augmented arm.
“What the hell is going on back here?” He flung his other arm across his nose and mouth as the smoke hit him and he coughed into the crook of his elbow. “I thought you were going to interrogate him, not burn him at the stake.”
“He’s the one who did the burning,” I replied. “Don’t worry, Pops. We’ve got it under control. Our subject got a little well done in the process, though.” I gestured to the body on the floor.
“Good riddance,” Smitty said. “Did you get anything useful out of him beforehand?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He thought it’d be safe to tell us everything since we would all die after the interrogation was over. He told us that Delano is the brains behind this whole operation. Kind of a mistake on his part, but we’re not complaining.”
Smitty waved us out of the room and backed out himself before he uncovered his face. “Let’s get on out of that barbecue pit before these old lungs up and quit. I’m not as young as the rest of you whippersnappers.”
“Weren’t you smoking a pipe earlier?” Deacon asked innocently.
The blacksmith rounded on the agent and narrowed his eye. He might have only had one eye, but that didn’t lessen the intensity of his gaze. “You,” he announced, “have graduated from whippersnapper to rapscallion. You better watch your step, young man, unless you want your ears boxed.”
Deacon hid a smile. “Sorry, sir. I merely made an observation.”
Smitty held his glare for a few seconds longer. Then he grinned and slapped Deacon on the back. “I’m fooling with you, boy. The pipe’s a bad habit, don’t I know it. But if you can believe it, I’ve felt damned good since I started on the old hair of the dog, so to speak.”
Deacon blinked., “Hair of the—oh. Right, of course, that would make you more...durable.”
We followed Smitty back into the church’s main sanctuary, which was enveloped by warmth, lively conversation, and the smell of a home-cooked meal. He paused near a large bin full of an assortment of clothing.
“Yeah,” he said and looked into the bin’s contents. “A lot of us were pretty peeved about it in the beginning, but that all changed once we realized how much more ass we could kick. Now, I think we’re all settled into our identities. We keep these crates of clothes out to make the transformation process a little, uh, smoother.”
“Got tired of flashing your junk to the world?” I asked.
“Something like that.” He picked through the items and found a shirt with a long rip in the middle. “Mind you, sometimes, this type of thing happens, so we gotta keep an eye on what ends up in here or else it’ll be only a bunch of filthy rags.” He shot me a smile. “I bet you didn’t think there’d be that much laundry in the resistance, but it keeps the gears moving.”
“Hey, that’s an awesome idea,” I said. “We should do that at the fort for Maya. She’s always trying to figure out a way to quick-change without showing off the goods.”
“It’s worked out well for us,” Smitty said. “I wasn’t sure how any of this would go at the start, to be honest with you. But so far, we’ve managed to grow our community despite the odds. And I gotta tell you, we have a mind to keep fighting no matter what.”
“That’s good to hear,” I told him. “We’r
e in the same boat.”
The old man gave me a sidelong look. “Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ on the way.”
“Well…” I scratched my head. “It’s apparently indisputable that Delano’s the mastermind here. I wish I knew more about what the hell he thinks he’s doing. I never was able to get a motive out of him in New York. I don’t think I realized he had one, which makes me feel incredibly stupid now.”
“Delano?” Thoughtfully, Smitty rubbed his whiskers. “That the name you said earlier? I’ve heard it before.”
“Really?” I tried not to get excited. “Where?”
“The girl on the radio mentioned it a few times. Now if only I could remember her name.”
“Namiko?” I volunteered.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Very nice young lady, and smart as a whip. She and Amber got along like two peas in a pod.” His expression darkened. “She told Amber this Delano fellow has popped up all over the world and caused destruction everywhere he goes. He always leaves a pile of bodies in his wake—humans and gods alike.”
“Bastard,” I muttered. “Has she been able to get a bead on him at all? I know she’s stuck manning her hub in California, but we might be able to track him down if she has any leads.”
Smitty shook his head. “Amber said it’s not so simple. There are rumors about him everywhere, but none of the stories match up. She’s heard a million different descriptions of him doing a million different things. The only real consistency seems to be the name.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Deacon asked.
I gritted my teeth. “It means we’ve found our new priority number one. And you guys know what that means.”
“New plan?” Deacon asked knowingly.
I smiled at him. “New plan.”
We spent the next few hours at the drawing board with Smitty and some of his top strategists to hash out the next steps that, for the first time, didn’t really involve me. The reasons were solid once I understood, but I still went to bed feeling more than a little bummed. Not only that, but I quickly discovered how spoiled I’d been by all the creature comforts at Fort Victory. There was something incredibly humbling about a shower taken with cold water, a sponge, a bucket, and a thin sliver of soap.
“Marcus?” I asked when I lay in bed with the medallion on my chest. “Are you awake?”
Always. What is on your mind?
“What do you think Delano’s up to out there?” I asked. “Maybe it was naïve of me, but I didn’t think I’d hear that name after we defeated Lorcan. I’m not sure what to expect.”
In all honesty, neither am I, Marcus said. A part of me hardly believed the legend might be true, and yet, he appears to have pulled the wool over many, many eyes.
“And now he’s killing gods,” I said and rolled onto my side. “That’s my thing. This dude’s seriously cramping my style.”
It is surprising to me that his power should have increased to this level within such a relatively short space of time, Marcus said. This may be a sign of other forces at work. You will have to stay vigilant, as always. Keep your eyes open and your chin up.
“Sure,” I agreed. “It’ll give me something to do while I twiddle my thumbs from the sidelines.”
I tossed and turned for a long time after my conversation with Marcus drifted into silence. My room in the church was a private one but cold, and as I lay cocooned in the blankets, I did my best to think ahead to the future and where we were going and what our next moves might be. But despite my best efforts, my thoughts constantly returned to one thing above all else.
Tomorrow, Deacon would ship out on the next mission—without me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I didn’t get much sleep that night, and I woke in the sourest funk. I still got ready quickly so I could at least be there to watch the guys roll out. We had decided that too many would make them conspicuous, so Deacon and a small group were the only ones who prepped to actually leave that morning. The plan necessitated that every one of them be men, since women wouldn’t be allowed on the lumber gangs.
That meant I had to sit this one out completely. It wasn’t the only reason, but it was the one I liked best. I reminded myself of it over and over on my way toward the church’s exit. The front of the sanctuary buzzed with activity and excitement. Smitty’s men were hyped at the prospect of getting to face another big battle. I’d done my best to warn them that if they saw Delano, he’d be nothing like Hyrrik, no matter how strong the fire god had been. I told them to be careful, to be smart, and not to jump the gun. All of this was stuff they already knew, obviously. We were a band of veterans by now, and Smitty’s Weres didn’t really need my advice.
I was worried that they didn’t understand what they were in for. What if Delano saw through our scheme and didn’t take the bait? What if he countered with a preemptive strike? These were good men—great men—and yet, Delano’s wrath was apparently mighty as hell. I wished more than anything that I could go with them. That was what I thought about when Deacon found me with a sullen scowl plastered on my face as I stood near the wall.
“Don’t look so happy to see me,” he teased gently. “You didn’t have to get up so early. We’ll be fine.” I looked at him and felt like the tables had turned on me. He was the cocky, confident one who threw out quips and grins at the crack of dawn. My mind raced with worry, my hands knotted deep in my pockets. “Seriously, Vic. We’ll be okay.”
“I want to go,” I told him and hated how petulant it sounded. Part of being a good leader was knowing where I had to be, and for this mission, my place was to stand guard at the church. Unfortunately, the facts of the matter didn’t make it sting any less.
“You can’t,” he said bluntly, although his tone wasn’t unkind. “Remember all the stuff we talked about? If we want to draw this mofo out from whatever rock he’s hiding under, then you have no choice but to lay low for now. That sword is awesome, but it might as well be a damn beacon straight to your location. He might be able to use it to bypass us directly and come straight to you. That’s bad.”
“It is,” I admitted. I had trounced Lorcan way back when, but everything I heard made it sound like Delano’s power had long since eclipsed that of his former boss. The odds of a one-on-one match weren’t reliably in my favor. I was not the only god-killer on the block, which still made me a little salty.
“Plus,” Deacon continued, “we know nothing about Oxylem’s state of mind, other than Jerry’s opinion. I’ll go out on a limb and say he wasn’t the greatest source of intel. But if Oxylem is as big a wimp as Jerry claimed, he might crack as soon as he hears you’re around. The whole thing is ruined if Delano bails because he’s afraid of you punching his face in.”
I frowned. “Yeah.” As pissed as I was, it was somehow reassuring to hear that Deacon had such a solid grasp on the things we’d discussed at our last-minute meeting. He had come a long way since his induction by fire into the world of the gods. I was proud of him, and I told myself to lighten up.
“Don’t forget, Vic.” He put his hands on my shoulders. “This is your plan, and it’s a good one. We’ll infiltrate the lumber crew ranks and grow the rebellion from the inside. From there, we can see what state these people are actually in, what our prospects look like, and how many we can recruit. We dig in, expand as much as we can, and wait so we can be ready when he finally shows his ugly mug. Then we dive in and take him and Oxylem out in one fell swoop. Free the slaves, save the world, and come home safe and sound. That’s the point.”
“I know, I know.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “It’ll be dangerous.” For some dumb reason, the words, “I’m worried about you,” stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come out my mouth.
Deacon smiled. He knew what I tried to say. “None of it’s as treacherous as hanging out with you. I promise.”
I couldn’t help a low chuckle. “Touché.”
He reached down and grabbed my hand. “I’ll make you a deal. You be careful here
, and I’ll be careful there, and when I get back, I’ll cash in on that rain check I took.”
I laughed a little more. A blush crept automatically toward my cheeks. “You’re on, St. Clare. I’ll have you know I take my deals very seriously.”
Deacon winked. “So do I.” He glanced around at the men who assembled near the door. “It looks like we’re about ready to go. See you soon.” He gave my hand a quick, warm squeeze, and I watched his back blend in with the rest of the group all clad in torn, dirty clothes. They had made every effort to hide their vitality from the Vikings who would shortly capture them and turn them loose in the prison camp with the others. I could still tell they were strong and healthy, but I knew to look past the surface.
My chest felt tight as I watched them march out together. I followed across the threshold and onto the top landing of the stairs. The group spread out as they hit the yard so as to not look too much like the guerilla detachment they were. Deacon’s dark, tight curls stood out to my watchful eye. I wanted to run after them.
I didn’t. Common sense and my sense of duty formed a loud, insistent chorus in the logical sector of my brain. This was no time for emotions. They had this. I had a million other things I could do. For instance, I had yet to update Luis and the others on our current situation. They’d heard that we were holed up with Smitty in an old stone church but not much more than that. Another example of my stellar leading skills.
I turned somewhat guiltily to enter the church and fetch my radio from the bedside table in my room. Luis’s company had stood by for almost two days. It was high time to get in touch again.
