by ST Branton
He shook his head. “She made me swallow it. Again: kinda sexy, kinda creepy. Though at that point, mostly creepy.” He shivered a little, thinking about the encounter. “I felt that stuff take hold. It’s like a stranger breaking into your house, killing you, then bringing you back to life. Only the house is your mind, and there’s nothing you can do.” Frank wiped his forehead with his sleeve. His eyes were haunted, his voice down to a husky whisper.
“I’m sorry, Frank,” I said, and I meant it. “I saw what they were doing in the slaughterhouse. I never would have wished it on you.”
“I know.” He managed a sick smile. “You’re just doin’ your job. I know.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “She kicked me into a hole. I don’t remember too much about this part except… except it was a human landfill in there, gir—Vic. I can’t even picture it for the life of me. All I can hear is the screaming.” Frank’s skin was an almost translucent grey, dotted with beads of sweat. He looked so awful I wondered if he was going to keel over and die right on my couch.
“Yeah.” That was all I could think to say. Luckily, it seemed to be enough to jog him out of the post-traumatic rut.
“Don’t even know how long they kept me down there. I just know I finally climbed out of that hell tonight. Me and some of the others.” He shook his head. “A lot of them died. I knew—sure I knew—but it’s different when you look over your shoulder, and there’s a whole…” He trailed off. “You ever been to a scrap metal yard for old cars? It was like that, only every car was a human. Used to be a human.” He stared at a spot on the wall. “Can you believe there’s a part of me that wanted this?” He gestured vaguely to his body.
“Really? How come?” If Frank had made this admission the first time we met, I was sure I would’ve ripped him a new one over it. Now he wasn’t much more than a barely living tragedy. I had no anger or mockery to dredge up against him. He was just sad.
“Sounds dumb as hell now, but I figured a vampire must be sexy, right? They make movies about ‘em now, and they all get tons of tail. Seemed like a great life—covered in women, owning the shadows, living forever.” The ghost of a grin passed over his lips. “Turns out it’s a nightmare to get this far. And I’m still not getting numbers.”
I had to laugh at least a little, if only to lighten the atmosphere in the room. The medallion pulsed, and I turned my attention to Marcus. “Well? What’s the verdict? Is he on the level?”
Yes. He has told the most complete truth he can. Marcus’s tone was slightly begrudging, as if he’d been looking forward to Frank’s inevitable beatdown. The goddess of whom he speaks is called Tahn, the Serpent Queen. It is bad luck that she should be here so soon.
“Worse than Lorcan?” I asked.
Immeasurably. Lorcan dreamed of her strength.
“Are you talking to that guy again?” Frank interjected. “What the hell is up with him? I couldn’t figure him out.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I smirked. “If you ever have to talk to him again, I’ll be the middleman. I don’t think he likes you either.”
“I didn’t say I don’t like him,” Frank protested. “But he’s crazy, right? He’s gotta be.”
I object to this man’s very existence.
“Okay, okay.” I held up my hands as if to physically separate them. “I need to get back to my friends. There’s a lot of planning to do, and we need Marcus there.”
“What about me?” Frank asked, somewhat pitifully. His stomach gurgled, and he glanced down. “I’m practically wasting away here. Don’t know when the last time I ate was.”
Before I could formulate an answer, the cat leapt into Frank’s generous lap. She circled, digging her little paws into his knees. He eyed her with a dubious, hungry look: the look of a man weighing a heavy decision. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned. “The clemency you’ve been granted doesn’t cover you devouring my pets, hungry or not.”
I must caution you against furthering your association with this person, Victoria, Marcus advised. He now bears the instincts of a predator, whether he knows how to use them or not. There is no telling what could trigger the power inherent in the blood he received.
“Who, Frank? No way, man. He’s just a little harder to kill now, that’s all. It didn’t make him into a raging psychopath. If he was going to try to kill me, he would’ve done it already. And I would have taken care of the problem. End of story.”
“Me? I’m not a problem. No problem here.” Frank watched me with wide, fearful eyes. “All I want is to come with you, wherever you’re goin’ next. I won’t get in your way or nothing. You won’t even know I’m there.”
I find that extremely difficult to believe.
I tuned Marcus out. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Frank. I was going to say you could stay here if you want to.” I thought of the tenement refugees sheltering in the safehouse. How would they react to seeing a vampire in their midst? I was fairly sure Deacon might read me the riot act for taking such an objectively huge risk—and if he didn’t, his dickhead friend would. It looked bad from the outside. I knew Frank couldn’t possibly be a threat, but no one else did.
And what if I was wrong?
“I can’t stay here alone, Vic. You gotta believe me. They’ll rip me to shreds if they find out I escaped.”
“You broke out?” I was impressed.
“There were a bunch of cops there. They were supposed to take us somewhere else. Don’t ask me where. I just knew I wasn’t about to be carted around like so much livestock, okay? I wasn’t meant for this type of shit. First chance I got, I ran my ass off clear outta there. Maybe they coulda caught me, but they didn’t. Maybe I’m their target practice now.”
“Wouldn’t that make you more of a liability to have with me?”
“It was just a theory! Please, Vic. I can’t be on my own.” The desperation in his voice was palpable and sour. One last powerful wave of sympathy washed over me. As down and out as I had ever been, Frank’s current situation was a million times worse. The least I could do was lend him a hand.
“Fine. But there are rules. Actually, there’s just one rule. No vamp shit. And you have to carry the cat.” Frank nodded eagerly. His stomach growled again. “She better be undigested when we get there, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. You’re a lifesaver, Vic. Truly.” He pushed himself up off the couch cushion, leaving behind a sizeable dent. “You and me against the world, pussycat. Let’s go.”
I let him lumber out the door in front of me and took one last look around the place, double-checking for anything we might need. A nagging feeling told me this was the last I’d be seeing of my old loft for a while. The moment, brief as it was, felt unexpectedly bittersweet. None of my countless dreams of moving on had ever played out like this.
Worry not, Victoria. We will come home again.
Behind me, Frank clomped his way down the stairs, gingerly cradling the cat in his tree-trunk arms. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that? You probably wouldn’t taste like chicken anyway.”
Sighing, I closed the door and turned my key in the lock. “Man, I hope he doesn’t make me regret this.”
Are you saying he has yet to do so?
“You’re not helping,” I said. “Hey, but I’ve got an idea. How about we start playing catch-up, with you telling me everything you know about Tahn?”
Marcus took a few moments to reply. You know not what you ask, Victoria. To speak of Tahn is to speak of every riddle the universe has ever written.
“I take it back,” I said. “Start by explaining what the hell that means.”
Chapter Twelve
By the time I got out of the building, Frank was nearly a block ahead of me, his wide, blocky shape shambling down the deserted street. I broke into a jog to catch up. He was faster than he looked. “Didn’t you say you saw Frank’s memories?” I asked Marcus. “Not that I really want to know what those looke
d like, but they might be important.”
They are relevant in the sense that he, too, has seen Tahn in the flesh. But he knows nothing about her, as he stated previously. She is, I believe, far beyond his level of comprehension. He is only a pawn.
“Look, I get that you don’t like the guy.” I slowed my pace as we drew closer to Frank so that he wouldn’t overhear. He still had his head bent low, probably talking to the cat. “You’re just going to have to tolerate him for now. I’m not abandoning him.”
That is your prerogative, Victoria. I am resolved to trust your judgment, no matter how strongly I disagree on this particular issue.
“Hey, thanks. That means a lot. Now, back to Tahn. What’s her deal? I mean, I’m guessing she’s also from Carcerum, right?”
She is. And when she lived there, her power was almost unrivaled. Few of the others would have ever even dreamed of standing up to her. She could have been a tremendous force for good, had she forged the right alliances.
“But she didn’t? Can’t say I’m surprised.” I thought of those yellow eyes with the thin, menacing pupils. “She didn’t seem like one to act out of the goodness of her heart.”
Yes, that was the root of the problem. Tahn is a deceiver, and as such, none in Carcerum trusted her, especially not Kronin. He was, however, magnanimous enough to allow her to maintain her kingdom in a faraway corner of the realm. And of course, her Apprenti were fiercely dedicated. I imagine they still are.
“Any names to speak of? We got another Lorcan and Delano situation on our hands?”
I doubt it. At least, not to that extent. The mistrust inherent in Tahn’s relationships tends to go both ways. She would not allow any underling to handle her affairs with the same confidence as Lorcan had in Delano. It is not in her nature to act primarily through others, unless she is manipulating them.
“That explains why she showed herself on the roof.” I paused. “You saw that encounter, right? In my memories? Do you know anything about the beast she mentioned?”
The magnificent beast… Marcus trailed off into grim laughter. You should know that Tahn does not utilize her superlatives lightly. If she deems something to be worthy of such a description, it must be very serious. It will not be anything to cough at.
“You mean to sneeze at,” I corrected him, smiling slightly.
We will not get into the evolution of the idiom tonight.
“Okay, sure, but do you know what it is? Am I gonna be fighting some monstrosity directly from Carcerum?”
There are no monstrosities in Carcerum, Marcus told me, sounding slightly affronted. Kronin would never allow it. The Underworld is a different story. I have no conclusive knowledge of how deeply Tahn is tied to that cursed place. It is possible that she could have made some kind of deal.
“She mentioned two other names during our little conference: Beleza and Rocca. I saw Beleza downtown for a minute, before Deacon and I got out of there. Real big guy, looks like a statue, never stops smiling? He had a whole army of weird bodybuilder clones with him.”
I am glad to know how little Beleza has changed. Marcus’s voice was smirking. In Carcerum, he was never the worst of the villains, but he is shallow and easily swayed through lavish praise. Doubtless Tahn knew exactly what to say.
“You don’t sound worried.” I fell casually into step beside Frank, who shot me a furtive glance from under the brim of his hat. He still had the cat cradled in the crook of his elbow, covering her with one giant hand. His eyes had an unsettling gleam.
I am not. Marcus was definitive in his answer, which caught me a little off guard.
“Is that because he’s weak? He was basically just strutting around naked. No armor or anything. I didn’t see a weapon either, except for his cronies.” The prospect of fighting him seemed more like a matter of physics than anything. Get him down, make sure he can’t get back up. Pretty simple, right?
Well, there are no weak gods, but some are stronger than others.
“He sure doesn’t think he’s on the bottom of the totem pole, though. I’ve got a feeling he’s off in his own little world most of the time.” The image of him stomping blithely through the devastated street played over in my head.
What of Rocca? Did you see her? She would not be difficult to find. She is the eye of the storm of Marked. Hers is the chain that made their brands.
I felt a little surge of pride in knowing that I’d been able to guess at her identity. “I saw her, yeah. I guess that chain must summon them, then.”
It acts as a beacon for the Marked, yes. They flock to it as moths to a flame, whether or not they desire to go. Something like a siren song, I suppose. She can control them this way.
A thought I had before tugged at the corner of my brain. “Do you think that means the one we saw in Palo Alto is here?” His name floated right on the tip of my tongue. “Abraham? Ibrahim? Raphael?”
Abraxzael? Perhaps he is here, if his will faltered when Rocca sounded the call. But he is notoriously able to resist under circumstances where he should not be, so it is more likely that he remains free wherever he is. Provided that he has not been captured and imprisoned again.
“Huh. I would’ve thought someone like him might be her secret weapon.” I couldn’t deny that part of me wanted a rematch. There were way more important things to worry about, but I hadn’t forgotten our showdown at Monk’s factory headquarters. Since then, I’d learned a thing or two—and I was sure he had as well.
Do not make the mistake of discounting him entirely. Abraxzael is wily and unpredictable. That is what makes him so dangerous for the gods. He could be lurking in the shadows as we speak.
I glanced around, craning my neck to see past Frank’s considerable bulk. The mobster gave me a suspicious, worried look. “What?” he demanded hoarsely. “You know somethin’ I don’t know?”
“Lots of things, Frank,” I responded without turning my full attention to him. “Next to you, I look like a damn genius. That’s why I keep you around.”
He grunted. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you pick on old Frank, just like the rest of ‘em?” He shrugged. “Honestly, I kinda missed it, you know? You get used to a certain thing after long enough.” Having said that, he withdrew back into himself, and I pulled ahead of him to watch out for any approaching hazards and continue my conversation with Marcus in peace. Their mutual disdain for each other was going to get old fast.
“What do you think we should do?” I asked Marcus. My head was on a swivel, always surveying the scene around us. Marcus’s comment about Brax potentially lurking in the shadows had made me realize that my guard was down—but the streets being more or less deserted didn’t necessarily make them safe. Tahn had appeared and disappeared at a moment’s notice, after all.
It is not an easy or apparent solution, Marcus mused in my ears. I am confounded on a few different fronts. What is Tahn doing here, and why is she associating with Lorcan’s minions? It is unlike her to utilize another’s assets in this manner.
“I don’t know.” I frowned. “Come to think of it, it didn’t even sound like she and Rocca and Beleza were on the same side. More like a free-for-all that she intended to win.”
Neither Rocca nor Beleza can hold a candle to Tahn’s brilliance. I suspect they are both more than aware of this fact. However, they may be allowed to exist for as long as they serve a purpose to her. What that purpose may be, I cannot fathom. As I said, Tahn works on levels far above most gods.
“Not the most promising thing you’ve ever said.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “There must be a way to stop her. How do we do it? Don’t tell me she’s immune to the sword.”
Marcus hesitated. The sword will still hurt her, Victoria, but I am not sure she can be stopped at present. Not like this.
I actually froze mid-stride, stunned. “What the hell? Not you, too.” Never had I imagined that Marcus would be taking Deacon’s side over mine. They barely knew each other! “Marcus, you can’t be serious. I’m not letting that snake-
eyed bitch rule New York!”
Of course, this would not be a permanent arrangement. We need time to regroup and perhaps to recruit. We have done what we could to keep the gods at bay, but I do not need to tell you they are no longer. The war has broken, and strong as you are, one person is not enough. The Gladius Solis cannot defeat a darkness of this magnitude alone.
“Look, I understand what you’re saying, but this feels like giving up.” Frustrated, I rubbed my knuckles over my eyes. “I can’t turn my back on a whole city. I can’t.”
Let us call it a tactical retreat for now. Our losses will be much greater if we attempt to stay here and fight off the onslaught. We do not have that kind of sacrifice to make. He sighed. I know it is hard, Victoria. I know this is your home. These decisions do not come without gravity.
“It’s really come to this?” A knot formed in the back of my throat, a visceral reaction I wasn’t expecting. To stem the unwelcome tide of emotion, I clamped my mouth shut and kept walking so that Frank wouldn’t catch up.
Wisdom is often not without pain, Marcus said gently. When I was a young soldier, there was a city built as a stronghold atop the cliffs overlooking a sea. Its walls were high and daunting, meant to stymie the most brutal of attacks. The people who lived there were proud of this place, and rightly so. They considered themselves unassailable. For a long time, this belief went unchallenged.
Then, war broke out. The tide of battle surged right to the walls of this cliffside city, and it fell under siege. Weeks passed while their stubborn ruler held his ground. It is true that the walls proved impassable at first, but they were soon turned against him. The city’s lifeblood was cut off at the source. The citizens began to starve. The militia withered under a constant barrage. And eventually, because of his staunch refusal to back down, the leader of that once illustrious city lost everything. It is a ruin over the sea now, its walls crumbling. This is not the fate I want for your New York.
