Promise of Wrath (The Hellequin Chronicles Book 6)

by Steve McHugh

  Gilgamesh stepped in between us. “You will not touch him,” he told me.

  “Gilgamesh—” I protested.

  “I said no,” he repeated, this time crossing his arms over his chest as if to signify that the conversation was over.

  I weighed my odds. Could I get past Gilgamesh toward Mordred before the former killed me? Gilgamesh’s maul was leaning up against a wall a few yards away, but I’d also seen the man punch out a troll, and I doubted Asag would have been able to hold off the old king’s advances for long. I relaxed and took a step back.

  “Good man,” Gilgamesh said with a slight smile.

  “Someone had better explain why Mordred is here, why he isn’t dead, and why I can’t kill him. Enlil died to get me here. I’ve been attacked by a rock monster. I’m in no mood to play games.”

  “I can explain everything,” a woman said from beside me. She looked at Gilgamesh. “Enlil died?”

  Gilgamesh nodded. “Asag.”

  The woman closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. “Damn it. Damn them all for doing this.” She turned toward me. “For all of the awfulness that has happened, I’m glad you’re here, Hellequin.”

  I looked at the young woman who regarded me with such warmth, and felt guilty about even considering killing Mordred in her presence. I’d met her a century ago in Camelot, when she was a guest of Elaine’s. In Sumerian mythology, she’d been known as a goddess of social justice, prophecy, and fishing. She was loved by her people, and trusted by Elaine. I’d liked her immediately, and found her an interesting and warm person to be around.

  “Nanshe,” I said, with a bow of my head, “this man sullies your presence.”

  “Now that’s unfair!” Mordred shouted. “She hasn’t given me a chance to sully anything yet!”

  “Be quiet, Mordred,” Nanshe said.

  Astonishingly, Mordred actually shut up. “We need his help,” she said, regarding me once more. “We need your help too.”

  “Why?”

  “Mordred was involved in a plot to attack Avalon personnel here in Acre.”

  “That’s not a surprise; he’s always involved in something. And that tallies with what Asag said about Avalon personnel not being welcome. I assume they’re friends?”

  “It would appear that any flame of friendship between them is long since extinguished. Unfortunately, we don’t know what their plot is. When I told Merlin, he insisted he send you along to help.”

  I got the feeling she hadn’t been too impressed with Merlin sending me, but I ignored her irritation. “Can’t you make Mordred talk?”

  “He doesn’t know the plot itself, just the players involved. And once he learned that you were on your way here, he decided he’d only give those names to you.”

  I was stunned. “Wait – Mordred asked for me?”

  Nanshe nodded. “We found him in the city and had him arrested, but he will only talk to you about those involved.”

  I stared at Mordred. “Why?”

  “Why?” he asked. “Because I want to watch your face when you fail. I want to see your expression when thousands die because you couldn’t stop it.”

  I looked back at Nanshe, determined to ensure that Mordred’s words didn’t come to pass. “Right, let’s get started then.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Now. Basingstoke, England.

  This really doesn’t seem fair,” Tommy said, as he landed on his back while his daughter, Kasey, put him in an arm lock.

  “I think it’s brilliant!” I told him through bouts of laughter. “Seeing you thrown around the room: it’s like a dream come true.”

  “It’s not bad for me either,” Kasey said as she released the grip on her father’s arm and got back to her feet.

  Tommy glared at me. “I thought you were meant to be the one training her.”

  “I am! I’m training her to kick your ass.”

  A year earlier, in front of a large part of Avalon’s more powerful players, I’d agreed to become one of Kasey’s sentinels. The job requirements were easy. As a sentinel, it was my duty to ensure that Kasey, or “Kase” as she liked to be known, was always ready for whatever life threw at her. On top of that, I’d agreed to train her. She was going to be Hellequin’s pupil, and frankly that had brought with it a host of people looking her way with a kind of alarm. Getting someone many considered to be little more than an assassin to train a young woman to follow in his footsteps was hardly going to make everyone happy. Thankfully, Tommy, his partner, Olivia, and Kase were the only people whose opinions I actually cared about, and all of them had been thrilled.

  I’d started training Kase within a week of returning from Avalon, and for months Tommy had asked when she was ready to spar with someone. I don’t think he had himself in mind, but after seeing him thrown onto the floor for the twentieth time, I felt like I’d made the right choice.

  “This isn’t as fun as either of you seem to think it is,” Tommy said as he climbed back to his feet. “You do realize, I’m not actually fighting back here.”

  “Well, you have several hundred years, at least a foot in height and a few stone in weight on me,” Kase said. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

  “And this is?” he asked.

  “No, this is fun,” I told him.

  “I’m glad to see she’s improving so much,” Tommy said as he rubbed his arm.

  “I’m a machine,” Kase said with a laugh and boxed at the air.

  “Cocky, too,” Tommy told her. “Am I allowed to say the force is strong with this one?”

  “No!” Kase and I said together.

  Tommy grinned and got back to his feet. “I’m genuinely impressed. Now go shower—you stink.”

  Kase laughed and ran off.

  “Seriously, are you trying to kill me?” Tommy asked when we were alone.

  “That’s the plan,” I admitted. “I figured with you out of the way I could run your empire and keep your riches.”

  “My empire runs without me already,” he pointed out. Tommy had worked for Avalon—specifically for the Shield of Avalon or SOA—for centuries before leaving and starting his own security firm. The SOA was basically Avalon’s MI5 and MI6, and Tommy’s experience with Avalon, and his subsequent departure, allowed him a lot of goodwill from people who might not want to go to the SOA to discuss their troubles.

  Tommy marketed his business as a place where Avalon politics didn’t enter into any work done, and from what I could see, it appeared to be working. He’d had to open two new branches—one in America and the other in Japan—just to keep up with the demand of work from all over the globe. It also allowed him to put people he trusted in charge so he could spend more time doing things he loved. Like eating and watching Star Wars.

  “What about your riches?” I asked as we left the gym in his building and walked toward his office.

  “You can have that. But you’ll have to work here for it.”

  I chuckled. “I think I’m good, thanks. The last time I did work for you it didn’t end well.”

  We were both silent for a few seconds after the humor evaporated. The work I’d done for him had led to us hunting a serial-killing monster: a monster that nearly murdered Tommy, Kase, and me. It wasn’t a good memory.

  “Well, that killed the mood,” I said when we reached his office door.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to shower.”

  Tommy’s office had undergone an overhaul since I had last visited. It still had the mass of windows down one side, giving less-than-incredible views of roads and an industrial estate. Pictures that Kase had drawn as a young child still hung on walls, but Tommy had converted an adjacent room into an office bathroom.

  Tommy wandered off to the small bathroom so he could shower, hopefully with the end result of him smelling considerably better. While I was left to my own devices, I perused his bookshelves, finding various fantasy and science fiction books nestled in between a plethora of Star Wars comics and novels.

 
“I’m surprised you didn’t have this office redecorated as a Sith temple or something,” I called out.

  “Considered it,” Tommy shouted through the door. “Olivia told me it wasn’t overly professional.”

  I paused. “Smart woman.”

  “Or spoilsport.”

  “My answer is more accurate.”

  Tommy exited the bathroom after a few minutes, wearing an expensive black suit. “I have a board meeting in an hour,” he told me, explaining the reason for dressing up before I had the chance to mock him.

  “How unbearably exciting.”

  “Not even a little bit, but they’re necessary, and frankly I want to see how the new offices are doing.”

  “How’s Olivia?”

  “Neck-deep in Reaver awesomeness, as per usual, for the last year. She stays in contact when she can, but it’s not unusual for us to go days without actually seeing one another.”

  The Reavers were a group of psychopaths who decided that killing me and taking over Avalon was their new life goal. They were working with King Arthur’s brother, Kay: a man who had tried to start a coup to overthrow the government of Avalon. It hadn’t gone well, and Kay had ended up with most of his allies being killed or arrested. But Kay himself escaped. No one had seen him since, but I was certain he’d resurface soon enough. There was unfinished business between the two of us, and I was pretty certain I didn’t need to hunt for him. He’d find me. And then I’d end his miserable little existence.

  After Kay’s failed attack, Olivia, who was already the head of a Law of Avalon, or LOA, office—Avalon’s police force—and someone who had excelled at the role, despite those above her throwing barriers in her way, had been promoted. She was put in charge of Special Operations, overseeing the capture of any and all Reavers currently operating. It had turned out to be a full-time job. Avalon was meant to be the secret governing power behind everything in the world, but if the Reavers got their way, it would be less secret and a lot more dangerous for everyone. Especially me.

  At the moment, Avalon mostly allows humanity to do as they wish, only intervening if things get to a stage where it infringes Avalon’s power, or causes concern within the Avalon community. And even then the political nature of the beast means that by the time anything ever gets done, whatever they were worried about is usually over. In this instance, Avalon—and its leader, Elaine Garlot—had decided to act decisively.

  “Merlin still want me dead?” I asked.

  “I don’t think he’s taken out an advert in the paper or anything,” Tommy said, “but that’s the general idea, yes.”

  I’d been told by multiple people on multiple occasions that after Merlin had removed all protection from me, I should beware incoming attacks. So far, nothing. But I doubted it would stay that way forever. Over the sixteen hundred years of my life, I may have made an enemy or two. Maybe.

  I grabbed a newspaper from the table beside me and leafed through it. “You still read these? I thought everyone had gone digital.”

  “I get a bunch delivered every day. I like to keep up with whatever lies they’re peddling. If you read them enough, you can see Avalon’s influence in anything important. Reading between the lines in a paper is sometimes quicker than actually contacting Avalon for information.”

  I continued to flick through the pages and paused at a picture of some old stonework. The article mentioned that several ancient Babylonian artifacts were going to be taken to the British Museum for display and scientific research.

  “Has anyone looked into this?” I asked, showing Tommy the page. There had been occasions of old artifacts being discovered that did all kinds of weird stuff, like summoning monsters or containing blood-magic curses: things people don’t really want activating in the middle of a museum.

  “Yep. It’s all safe. There are some rocks with what appeared to be runes carved into them, but Avalon sent some people to look into it.”

  “What did the runes say?”

  “I have no idea. I’m not exactly in the loop for stuff like this. I’m pretty certain it’s nothing, though. Olivia would have heard if they’d found something worth worrying over. I can look into it if you want?”

  “I’m just curious,” I told him as I replaced the paper beside me.

  “You’ve got too much time on your hands, my friend.”

  “And you have a meeting to go to.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Tommy had almost made it to the door when his phone went off. “For crying out loud . . .”

  “I’ll get it,” I told him and pushed the speakerphone button. “Tommy’s office.”

  “Mr. Carpenter,” the voice on the other end of the phone said, “there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it?” Tommy asked as he walked back to his desk.

  “Just let me up there, for fuck’s sake!” an angry voice shouted.

  “Remy?” I asked.

  “That is the man’s name, yes,” the voice on the phone said, trying his best to sound professional.

  “Is that Nate?” Remy snapped. “Tell him I’m not his fucking delivery boy.”

  “He sounds happy,” Tommy said with a slight smile. “Put him on the phone.”

  “Who’s this?” Remy asked.

  “It’s Tommy. I’m going to let you up, but first you’re going to say sorry to the person you were rude to.”

  “I don’t fucking well see why.”

  “Because I fucking well told you to,” Tommy said.

  There was a sigh. “Sorry,” Remy said. “Happy?”

  “Yeah, come on up.”

  “I’ll arrange his visitor’s badge,” the person Remy had been rude to said.

  “Good. Don’t let him give you any shit,” Tommy told them and hung up.

  “He’s thrilled to be here,” I said with a smile.

  “Sounded like he had something for you. I guess my meeting will have to wait.”

  Remy came marching into the office a few minutes later, flanked by a massive guard.

  “Is this fucking necessary?” Remy asked as the guard left.

  “No. I imagine you got that because you pissed off the receptionist,” Tommy told him.

  Remy opened his mouth to speak and thought better of it. “Okay, I shouldn’t have been an asshole, but I’ve come a long way and I’m tired and cranky.”

  “You’re always cranky,” I pointed out.

  “Fuck you, Nate,” Remy said with something similar to a smile on his face. “You’d be cranky too if you’d been turned into a three-and-a-half-foot fox.”

  Remy Roux was the result of a pissed-off witch who’d managed to convince her coven to change her cheating lover into a fox. The spell backfired and resulted in the deaths of twelve witches, the souls of whom transferred into their victim. Unfortunately for Remy, the spell partially worked. They turned him into a half-fox, half-man hybrid.

  Remy was covered in red fox fur. He walked upright on legs that were more human than fox, and had a red fox muzzle and big bushy tail. He usually wasn’t quite as angry at the world as the previous few minutes would suggest, but he was capable of being a giant pain in the ass when pushed.

  “Why are you so irritated?” Tommy asked.

  “Well, let’s see,” Remy said. “First of all, I get contacted and told to bring you this.” He passed me a small, padded, brown envelope.

  “What is it?”

  Remy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know, Nate. Maybe you could open it and find out? What a fucking idea that would be.”

  “You seem more sweary than usual,” I said.

  “Well, as I was saying. I got given this and asked to bring it to you. Even got to sit in the back of an expensive car while I was driven here. For eight fucking hours I’ve been in the back of a car so I can bring you your fucking mail.”

  “Why didn’t you just post it to me?” I asked, looking at the envelope. There was no return address: just the cottage Remy lived in—the usual place for any mail to be sent before i
t was brought to Avalon Island and distributed to the recipients after it had all been checked.

  “Because Elaine told me to take it to you personally. Apparently she wants me to check on you—make sure you’re okay. So, are you, Nate? Are you okay? No sprains or boo-boos I need to tell her about?”

  I shared a glance with Tommy. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Remy set his jaw, as if willing his anger to stay in one place, but his shoulders soon sagged. “I’m tired, I haven’t eaten, and I’ve been stuck in a tiny village for the last year with the entirety of my visitors being those who say hello before they run off to Avalon Island. And now I’m delivering mail. None of those things is exactly a demanding job. In fact, they’re all downright boring.”

  “Why don’t you go eat something?” I suggested. “Maybe a full belly will cheer you up.”

  I opened the envelope and tipped out a USB stick onto my hand. “Well, that’s not something I get every day.”

  “I’ll show you the way,” Tommy said, turning back to me as he reached the door. “Use my laptop; it’s on the desk there.”

  I sat in the comfortable leather chair and opened the laptop, which sprang to life. As I had no idea who had sent the USB stick, or even what it contained, I ran Tommy’s antivirus software on it, which said it was safe to proceed.

  The USB contained two folders. The first was titled 1. Pictures, and contained photos of the exterior of a building in Whitechapel, London. A building that was familiar to me, as it was home to a vampire by the name of Francis who had helped me over a decade ago, when I’d had my memory wiped by an old nemesis of mine: Mordred.

  Francis had allowed me to feel like I wasn’t so alone in the world. He’d explained that I was a sorcerer, that I was capable of incredible feats of magic, and that I might not like it if I ever discovered who I was. Over the next ten years, I made a good living for myself as a thief and did a lot of jobs for Francis and his nameless clients.

  Then, five years ago, Mordred came back into my life, bringing pain and death with him. He forced someone I cared about into such a position that she sacrificed herself to break the blood-magic curse Mordred had given me and give me back my memories. I’d killed Mordred for what he’d done—although what I’d learned only a few months earlier suggested that he’d somehow lived through that ordeal. It was something I was still having trouble coming to terms with. I didn’t know many people who could survive a 7.62 x 51mm NATO round to the eye.