The Vampire's Bond 3

by Samantha Snow

  The air around them seemed to buzz, prickling over their skin like electricity. The world around them started to get hazy at the edges, as if their connection to the rest of the world was being unraveled, one thread at a time.

  As if the universe was taking a deep breath, suddenly the Vampire Lords were gone. There was no flash of light or rumble of thunder. There was a quiet pop of air rushing in to fill the spaces they had been standing in a moment before, but other than that, there was no pomp or circumstance. In one instant, they were standing there, and in the next, they were simply gone, as if they had never been there to begin with.

  *

  When the Vampire Lords arrived in Heaven, it was with a similar lack of fanfare. There was empty space and then a rush of air as the empty space was abruptly filled with them. There was nothing to truly announce their arrival, but that was likely for the best.

  Already, it felt as if there was a string at the back of Regina’s mind, steadily pulling, as if to yank her out of the world. For the moment, at least, it was easily ignored. She had no doubt it would become harder to ignore the longer they were in Heaven.

  From there, they just had to get their bearings, but that was easier said than done, as they soon noticed.

  Heaven was not what they were expecting it to be. It was simply… light. There was some sort of ground beneath the Vampire Lords’ feet and, of course, there was air around them, but beyond that knowledge, they couldn’t actually see anything except for intermingling white and gold light. If that was simply what Heaven truly looked like or if it was only properly visible to angels, they weren’t sure, but they supposed it didn’t particularly matter.

  The Metatron was waiting for them, though he wasn’t immediately visible, blending into the light as some sort of wild creature might blend into the forest, so all they could see was a wobbling outline as he moved, like some sort of heat haze. The Metatron was more of a mirage than a being, it seemed.

  But there were five Lords, and they had help.

  If Regina listened carefully, she could hear a whispering voice at the back of her thoughts, as her trial keeper informed her that, if they just managed to grab onto the Metatron, they could drag him out of Heaven. A cursory glance around revealed the other four seemingly listening to something, so she imagined they were all hearing the same information that she was from their own trial keepers.

  Just grab onto the Metatron. That sounded doable. Even if he was hard to see, there were five of them, and no one said they had to hold onto him for long. They just had to grab him before they got booted back out of Heaven. But she also knew that these things were rarely ever as simple as they sounded like they should be.

  As if to prove that point, the Metatron hardly even offered them a chance to figure out which direction was up. He surged forward, blending in with the light, silent as an owl. He crashed into Dask’iya, throwing her to the ground, and immediately used her as a springboard to then launch himself at Harendra.

  Harendra ducked, so only his shoulder wound up clipped, though he still wound up on his ass on the ground, while the Metatron faltered in the air but regained his balance, pivoting in the air like a top.

  Osamu offered Harendra a hand up and then flung him forward. With that added momentum, Harendra slammed into the Metatron’s back, slamming an elbow against his spine between his wings. They crashed to the ground in a heap until the Metatron kicked Harendra off with enough force to send him sprawling. His wings flapped once, the breeze ruffling the hair of the nearest Lords.

  Regina rolled her eyes and threw herself into the fray, her shoulder colliding with the Metatron’s side as she ducked her head and charged him like a linebacker. He stumbled two steps to the side and spread his wings to take off, only to stumble in that attempt when Harendra seized a handful of feathers and yanked, ripping a fistful of feathers free. With an indecipherable shout that sounded offended, the Metatron snapped his wings outward like a pair of battering rams.

  Regina ducked under one wing and punched the Metatron in the ribs before she ducked under a strike to elbow him in the sternum. She dropped to her knees and then tumbled as he tried to kick her, and when he landed, he turned away from her entirely, evidently deciding that she was too slippery to bother with. Instead, he turned to Dask’iya and bolted towards her, slowing only when she simply looked at him with no intent to move.

  The Metatron reared back, backpedaling away from Dask’iya as her hands caught fire. She pursued him one step at a time, flames increasing in heat and brightness. And then the Metatron flapped his wings forward to make a breeze.

  Dask’iya’s fire went out like a wick being snuffed, and the Metatron propelled himself into the air just enough to kick her in the chest with both feet, knocking her onto her back and sending her tumbling. He advanced after her, and then Allambee threw an arm around the Metatron’s waist, dragging him back down towards the ground and ripping his attention away from Dask’iya, with much the same attitude as a man impatiently scruffing a kitten that was getting up to too much trouble.

  The Metatron kicked Allambee aside once and then a second time when Allambee latched onto him again immediately to haul him downwards. On the second attempt, Allambee stayed down long enough for the Metatron to actually put some space between them. He turned his attention towards Osamu and lunged. Osamu bolted out of the way, drawing the Metatron farther away from the group.

  Flames erupted around the Metatron, forcing him to a halt, and he beat his wings forward, extinguishing the portion of the white-hot blaze in front of him. Harendra caught the end of one wing as it neared him, and Osamu caught the end of the other wing. They dug their heels in and hung on as he tried to wrench his wings free, until Regina crashed into his back, locking an arm around his neck. His back arched as he tried to dislodge her, but Dask’iya’s fire was creeping closer, keeping him on his toes. Allambee crashed into him like a wrecking ball, slamming a fist and then an elbow into the Metatron’s chest before seizing a handful of his hair. Dask’iya’s fire abruptly rolled inwards, and she strolled through it and shoved a hand into his face.

  The air vibrated, and the glowing golden light started to fluctuate in much the same way as a guitar string might be plucked. The trial keepers didn’t actually say anything; they simply acted.

  There was the impression of a great heaving motion in the air, and suddenly everything felt weightier, as if gravity had suddenly decided that it had been going too easy on everyone and it needed to correct that oversight. The Metatron was shouting at them, ranting and raving in a language none of them could understand, though they were more than willing to simply assume that it wasn’t complimentary.

  With a feeling like a hand had fisted itself in their guts and pulled as hard as it could, they were all ripped out of Heaven. If not for the way the Metatron screamed and came with them, they might have assumed that they had done something wrong, for it was not a pleasant process, but perhaps that was to be expected; moving from one plane of existence to another probably was not designed to be an easy process, lest everyone decide to do so on a lark.

  Between one breath and the next, they were no longer in Heaven.

  *

  Everyone was gathered outside the manor when the Lords reappeared, plus an extra. No one wanted to miss a moment of whatever was about to happen. For those who had been there through Chambersburg and Belleview and the tracking of the archangel puppets, fleeing before the last fight seemed tantamount to heresy. They had all been stuck in the angelic quagmire for so long that leaving early merely to avoid the possibility of being collateral damage was hardly even a real option.

  (Besides, if the Vampire Lords failed, then everyone and everything would be collateral damage, so sticking around to watch whether or not they managed to bring things to an end hardly seemed like a big deal in comparison.)

  Somewhat safely back in the proper world, the feeling of being pulled by an invisible string had vanished, and Regina could just barely hear her trial keeper
reminding her, We have done what we can, but do remember that it won’t be long before he can return, and all will have been for naught.

  The Metatron glowed, shining a brilliant golden light so brightly that his actual facial features were entirely indistinct. Just about everything about the way he looked was impossible to tell, save for the fact that he appeared to be nearly eight feet tall and roughly shaped like a human, with a head, a torso, two arms, and two legs.

  Siobhan sort of expected him to have many wings. After all, with the lesser angels, the stronger they got, the more wings they had. Instead, he had only two. Only a single pair. But they were enormous, stretching nearly forty feet from one tip to the other, glowing an even more brilliant gold than the rest of him. It was as if the sun had taken a humanoid form and been pulled down to Earth, and it was not happy about it.

  As soon as he appeared, the signal erupted like a volcano, louder and more violent than it had ever been before. Nearly as one, Siobhan, Gabriel, Anael, Samael, and Raphael dropped to the ground, huddling in on themselves in agony as it suddenly felt like a particularly vindictive toddler had taken a hammer to the insides of their skulls.

  As Siobhan whimpered pitifully, Jack dropped to his knees at her side and Barton stepped in front of her defensively, whining in distress once he realized there was nothing he could do. Jack wrapped an arm around her, and she slowly levered herself back to some semblance of upright by latching onto his shoulders. She couldn’t hear past the buzz in her head and the ringing in her ears, tears were streaming from her eyes, and blood was leaking steadily from her nose. Despite all that, she was going to see what happened next with her own eyes.

  Slowly, the angels stirred, laboriously propping themselves up. They were in no better shape than Siobhan, but much like her, they were going to see how this ended.

  For his part, the Metatron seemed… confused. As if he had always known that there was another world outside of Heaven, but it hadn’t occurred to him that this was what it might look like. He looked around slowly, and then his wings spread wide behind him, large enough that there was a noticeable breeze as they stretched.

  He was speaking still, though he had stopped shouting. Instead his voice was a low rumble, like thunder across the plains, as if he could shake the manor and its grounds and everyone there into pieces with nothing but his voice. (Perhaps he could at full strength, but just then, at the very least, that did not seem to be the case.) He sounded unimpressed, but his actual words were incomprehensible. If he realized that or even cared, there was no way to tell.

  He hesitated before doing anything, unsure of what a world other than his own had in store for him. No one gave him time to find his bearings. Instead, Dask’iya simply lunged at him, her fists knitted together as she swung them at him like a club. The first strike hit him squarely in the chin and sent him stumbling, but after that, he was more prepared, and Dask’iya’s next attempt only grazed his shoulder, and the strike after that went wide. The Metatron hooked an arm around her and threw her out of the way.

  Regina caught her before she could hit the ground and carve a trench on it, and by the time she set Dask’iya back on her feet, Allambee was rushing at the Metatron like a bullet train… only to duck out of the way at the last second. The Metatron drew up short, staring at the space where Allambee had been just a split second before, until Harendra collided with him from behind and sent him sprawling face first into the grass. It lasted for only a brief moment, though, before the Metatron flapped his wings, hurling Harendra off of his back and propelling himself back to his feet. He reached out, one hand closing around Harendra’s throat just as Harendra got back to his feet. With a squeeze, the Metatron had him wheezing, and likely would have snapped his neck right then and there, were it not for the ball of fire that Dask’iya shaped in her hands and hurled at the Metatron like a stone. It dissipated as soon as it struck him, but it did at least startle him into dropping Harendra.

  Allambee ducked back into range, one fist landing against the Metatron’s ribs and then the other, giving Harendra time to stumble out of the way and figure out how to breathe again.

  Allambee ducked under one massive wing before it could smash the side of his head in, only to be knocked into the grass when his legs were swept out from beneath him. He landed with a grunt and tumbled aside as the Metatron screamed something that sounded incredibly angry at him.

  Unperturbed by the Metatron’s outrage, Allambee scrambled out of the way, clearing the path so he wouldn’t get trampled a moment later. With a running start and a jump, Osamu kicked the Metatron squarely in the side of the head, and when the Metatron grabbed him by the ankle, Osamu bent forward over his leg, latching onto the Metatron’s wrist just as the Metatron tried to throw him like a discus. The result was that they both landed in the grass in a graceless heap.

  Osamu and the Metatron scuffled across the grass for a moment, though it seemed to consist mostly of Osamu blocking and squirming to keep himself from being beaten soundly about the head. Harendra darted closer, both hands curling around the bend in one wing, and he hauled back with all of his strength. Though the Metatron was not moved particularly far, he was moved just far enough that when Osamu slammed a knee into his ribs, he could squirm out from beneath him. Skirting around the Metatron’s side after that, Osamu grabbed the second wing and pulled, wrenching the Metatron back a step. He struggled against both of them, until Allambee darted into range, strolling between the wings so he could wrap his hands around their bases, pushing downwards until the Metatron could hardly even flap them anymore.

  With a placid look on her face, Regina approached, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, her hands swaying casually at her sides until she was standing right in front of him.

  Regina reached up, fisting a hand in the Metatron’s hair and dragging downwards, forcing him to stoop to her height. She clasped one hand tightly around his chin and wrapped her other arm around his neck. Nearly as one, Harendra, Osamu, and Allambee let him go and backed up.

  With a smile that was nearly savage, Regina tightened her hold on the Metatron’s neck and chin, and then she twisted. There was a crack like rocks tumbling down a mountain side and he went limp, sagging to his knees until Regina released him, and he dropped into an ungainly heap in the grass, where he did not move again. Regina backed away as Dask’iya slowly approached.

  The Metatron’s body lay sprawled inelegantly in the grass until, with a wave of her hands, Dask’iya set it alight and watched it burn, the flames magnesium bright and stretching towards the clouds like greedy fingers. She watched intently, observing calmly until little remained, save for a few errant feathers, and then those caught on fire and burned away as well.

  The wind carried away the smell of cooking meat, and the buzz in the air that his very presence had caused gradually began to ease, and then it stopped all at once, as if a harp’s string had been plucked and allowed to slow, until a finger was pressed to it to silence its note. Silence hovered in the air, heavy and profound, and nothing happened.

  For one long, drawn-out moment, it was as if all the world was still and silent, holding its breath and not daring to make a sound.

  For just a second, there was a vague impression that the trial keepers were watching, and that they approved. And then that second ended, and as if the Vampire Lords had never even spoken with the trial keepers before, the connections between the Lords and the trial keepers snapped, like a rubber band being stretched until it could take no more, and it frayed apart and split in two.

  *

  Afterwards, when the Metatron was little more than a burned-up smear across the ground, no one was quite sure what to do or how to react. One by one, the Vampire Lords relaxed, slumping to the ground to catch their breath once they were sure that the Metatron wasn’t going to suddenly rise from the dead again, but everyone else was left simply staring at the burned grass where he had been standing.

  Cautiously, Siobhan and the archangels began to st
raighten back up. They didn’t get up off the ground immediately, but ‘sitting up’ was at least an improvement over huddling on the ground in the fetal position and wishing for it to stop.

  The buzzing had stopped. The feeling like someone was trying to crush Siobhan’s skull inward and explode it outwards simultaneously had eased, leaving only a dwindling phantom pain in its wake. Slowly she got to her feet, moving cautiously, as if her legs were going to buckle at any moment. Though she supposed it wasn’t much of a concern, as Jack grabbed her elbow.

  “Everything good?” he asked, his voice low.

  Siobhan looked around, watching the Vampire Lords for a moment as they looked more mortal than she had ever seen them, watching as Gabriel helped Anael up and as Samael and Raphael picked themselves up off the ground, watching everyone else slowly slink closer to the Vampire Lords once they were sure that the fight was well and truly over.