by Peter Dawes
The curiosity in his eyes transformed into shock the moment I fully revealed my emerald irises. “You.” Malice laid heavy in the way he spat the word. Lowering his cigar back onto the ashtray, Zachary ascended to a stand as well. “Bodyguard to an elder? Which makes your brother a trai –”
No sooner had I slid my glasses back into my pocket than my hand shot up again, my mind producing one, clear message. ‘Shut the bloody hell up.’ The psychic force behind it compressed his wind pipe enough to stop his speech. Zachary’s eyes widened with panic while mine narrowed. “If I were you, I would reconsider your definition of a traitor.”
I heard a sigh emanate from my brother. “I trust that was absolutely necessary, Peter,” he said, a subtle hint of irritation making its presence known in Robin’s voice. “I had hoped we might extract the information peaceably from him.”
A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth, my eyes remaining fixed on Zachary. “I might have indulged you if I thought he could be completely transparent.”
When Robin failed to answer, I took it as his implied consent to proceed. The vampire elder I held in my clutches regarded me with hate, the rest of his body frozen save but the hands balling into fists. I paced forward, my expression turning severe while my focus became much more deliberate. My mind began its slow insertion back into his thoughts, not needing to mask the effort now that we had shown our hand.
And yet, something hidden taunted at me, a confidence I had not experienced even while interrogating the vampires I had slaughtered the night before. I paused my steps. “You have one last chance to truthfully answer this question,” I said, “And should you provide anything less than a satisfactory answer, I promise you will not enjoy the result.
“Now… Where shall we find Ian’s scroll?”
Chapter Five
He knew where it was. Stated clearly he had seen it and yet, had become defensive when Robin pressed. That was not, however, what spurred me to action, despite the swift unraveling of the conversation. Pressing into Robin’s thoughts conjured a strange litany of images – a cloaked figure scrawling words on a rolled parchment. Candlelight flickering in the background. Something I was certain had found its genesis in his imagination, prompted into existence by, in his own words, a myth. When I perused Zachary’s mind, however, I saw something far more concrete.
The rolled parchment of Robin’s fantasy had lain in the hands of Ian Carmichael himself. One of the parchments. Whatever the myth entailed, Ian had indicated there were more one and Monica was being held close to the location of another.
I could not have contained myself if I had tried.
Squaring my shoulders, I prepared to take control of the interrogation. My hand remained aloft, the psychic hold still in place. Zachary grunted when I released his throat, but sighed when he discovered himself unable to move otherwise. “Damn seers,” he muttered. “Release me and we’ll see how long you last in a fair fight.”
The corner of my mouth curled upward. “And you made it sound as though Ian divulged great insight into me. I am embarrassed for his sake if he made me sound so impotent.”
“I only know you hide behind swords and daggers, turncoat. Take those away and I would rip you apart.”
“Giving a surgeon a scalpel hardly makes him a cheater.”
“I suggest you cooperate with the man,” Robin said, interjecting. “Make it a swift death instead of a painful one.”
“You’re still a traitor, Michael O’Shane. Now I know how you survived.” Zachary attempted to glance at my brother, but could summon nothing more than a slight shift of his eyes in Robin’s direction. They returned to me in a harsh glare. “So the seer wants the scroll, does he?”
“I am not above saying pretty please.” My smirk turned mocking. “Of course, if you still wished to play coy with me, I could simply see what happens when I force myself inside your mind that much further.”
“You don’t even know what it does.”
“No, but my brother seems to have some notion with what we are dealing so that suffices for me.” My expression sobered. “Now, my answers, or I am liable to get agitated. Robin can tell you what I am like when that happens.”
Zachary sneered. “You and Judas Iscariot over there can both burn in hell. I won’t be telling you anything.”
“I feared it might come to this.” My next words were directed toward Robin. “Stay out of the way.”
The command might have brought a glare of offense from my brother, but he swiftly discovered why I issued it when Zachary sailed across the room and impacted with the wall. Producing the action with little mental effort, even I was taken aback by how easily I tossed him aside. For the sake of maintaining my air of authority, though, I regained my focus and turned it to the task of holding Zachary against the wall in telekinetic restraints. “Now, let us try this again,” I said, stalking forward once more. “Where is the scroll?”
This time, my invasion into his thoughts was more brutal; a hacksaw rather than a needle. A wail resonated through his mind I winced against when I closed in on where I had pinned him. His eyes frantic, he lost whatever battle he might have been waging against allowing his fangs to descend. ‘I don’t know where your bitch is, seer!’ he screamed within the confines of his thoughts.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I turned his head until his cheek pressed against the wall. The impact of the first slam had created fissures in the plaster which were now visible with his face tilted. A second would be liable to create a dent. Morbidly, I wondered how many it would take for him to break through to the other side. I drew in a deep breath and felt the energy I gathered pulse through me like a current. “That was not my question,” I responded aloud. “Where. Is. The. Scroll?”
When he failed to answer, I started twisting his head even further into the wall. Zachary cried out and I gritted my teeth. “No doubt that hurts. I could twist your head square off your shoulders, though I prefer the sword for that. Less messy.”
“Go ahead and take my head,” he said, finding his voice again, “My people will break down that door first before you actually find it.”
“Let them break down the door. I will kill them all.”
“Brother, wait,” Robin interjected.
I sighed, glancing at my brother in my periphery. He came to a stand and wove around the couches to walk closer. “Pay closer attention to his use of words,” he added. “He said before you actually find it.”
“What of it?” I asked, perking an eyebrow. A portion of my mind remained assigned to the task of holding Zachary in place while I attempted to understand what Robin was suggesting.
He nodded toward the coven master. “If he meant elsewhere, he wouldn’t have referred to his underlings breaking down the door.”
“You mean to suggest he has it here?”
“A hunch based on a slip of the tongue.” Robin shrugged.
“Worth pursuing, at any rate.” Turning my head, I stared down Zachary, briefly considering a few options before closing the gap between us. He glared back at me defiantly, remaining quiet. “Keep watch for me,” I said, my statement still directed at Robin. The idea springing to the forefront might have been far-fetched, but boldness had birthed creativity, demanding I experiment with the tools at my disposal. “If he as much as flinches incorrectly, then intervene.”
“As you wish.”
Ignoring the uncertainty in my brother’s voice, I focused on Zachary, seeing through the elder vampire as I followed the threadbare connection I had to his mind. He bucked against the mental grip, but I held on, lifting a hand and making the first physical contact I had established since interrupting. My palm pressed against his forehead and he sneered, a low growl rumbling from his throat while my eyes drifted shut.
His defenses strengthened in anticipation of the onslaught. I recoiled when a metaphoric door slammed shut, but pushed back against it, wedging it open at first and knocking it ajar with a little more concentration. While I would not have e
xpected anything less from an immortal elder, it still gave me the slightest headache once the walls of resistance caved inward. After that, though, his demeanor relaxed and I began to explore.
“Ian left the scroll here,” he said, though I could not be certain whether I was hearing his thoughts or his voice speaking aloud. “I was to hold onto it until he returned and if he didn’t, to wait until another established contact with me. He didn’t have any of the others. Just one.”
“How many others are there?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Seven, I think. Maybe fewer.”
“And who was this other contact?”
“I don’t know that either. Ian said I would know who it was when we spoke.”
“Has the contact been in touch?”
“Yes, though only recently. I don’t know who they are. I spoke to an underling.”
I sighed, scrambling for the next question I should be asking. The slight hesitation threatened to sever the connection; I felt it buckle and blurted the first thing which came to mind. “Where is my watcher?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your thoughts betrayed you. Ian said she was being kept near one of the scrolls.”
“Yes, but I don’t know which one.”
“Where are they located?”
“The secret is in the box.”
My brow furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. That’s what Ian said. The secret is in the box.”
“Even in death, he is a pain.” Nodding, I carried onward. “But he had found them all.”
“He was in possession of one located in Scotland. He said he knew where the others were.”
“But he failed to tell you.”
“The secret is in…”
“… The box, yes, I know. He had not yet claimed them all, and yet he left my watcher by one? Was it by the one he claimed?”
“No, he was given the one by his maker. Those were his words.”
“Why had he not claimed the other?”
“The damned cannot tread on hallowed ground.”
Another of Ian’s damned riddles, no doubt. I frowned, opening my mouth to decipher the riddle, but became aware of movement somewhere outside the mental connection I had with Zachary. Breaking the hold, I opened my eyes in time to see the elder vampire slump against the wall. He fell to the floor when I relinquished my grip on him completely. “What is…?” I began, turning to the source of the movement, but when I spun, I noticed Robin missing. I perked an eyebrow. “Brother?”
“In here!” he said, his voice muffled. Shifting my focus, I glanced toward the open doorway after casting one last glimpse at Zachary. His vacant stare beheld nothing, fixed into the distance as though the occupant had departed without turning off all the lights. Either way, Robin and I would hear him if he attempted anything clever.
I adjusted my coat as I stepped from one room to the next. Inside the office, Robin switched on a lamp and started combing through a stack of files arranged in a haphazard fashion atop an antique desk. “I assume we’re looking for a parchment of some kind,” he said as he displaced one half of the pile in favor of thumbing through the bottom first.
It provided all the impetus I needed to examine the office myself. Glancing around, I noticed the small room still in a state of apparent disarray, adding credence toward recounts of a recent move. The furnishings had been limited to the desk and a few chairs, with a built-in bookcase occupying the greater majority of the far wall. Taking note of a more traditional sword propped against the wall, I walked toward a collection of boxes and decided to make myself useful. “That would stand to reason, it being a scroll and all,” I said, lifting the lid to one.
“This is the problem with mythology. Always so bloody ambiguous.”
“A mythology I hope to become better acquainted with after we depart.” I turned enough to look at my brother, grinning. “Did I just catch you swearing?”
“You’re a poor influence.” He flashed me a quick smirk and resumed his search.
Chuckling, I set myself to the task at hand as well. A quick flip through the first box yielded nothing more than a collection of vital documents; forged birth certificates and social security numbers linked to what I supposed were members of his coven. Tossing that one, I moved to the next and sighed when I encountered bank statements and building contracts. “This will take all night,” I said.
“Zachary’s prophecy comes true,” Robin said. I heard the sound of desk drawers opening and closing. “If only I knew what the devil we’re looking for. This might go easier.”
A frown tugged at the corners of my lips. “Your old friend was a little lacking in finer details. Though I suppose I could have pressed for this one.”
“Couldn’t you still?”
“He does not appear in good mental stead at the present.” Throwing a useless folder atop its other useless counterparts, I placed both hands on my hips and surveyed the office once more. Next to the doorway laid a metal cabinet I reasoned I would search next, but even that appeared it might contain more of the same. Frowning, I continued my perusal. “If worse comes to worse, I suppose I could…”
“You suppose you could what?”
Looking at the bookcase again, I spied something I had missed on my first scan. A glimmer of gold on the top shelf caught the light, and as I walked closer, I saw a red gemstone sparkle. Placing a foot on one of the shelves, I made a mental calculation as to its sturdiness and climbed atop it once I figured it would not cave in. With one swipe, I took hold what felt to be a box and leaped down with it clutched in the palm of my hand.
The small, rectangular container bore an otherworldly aura to it, emanating some form of energy which could have been an enchantment, but certainly not one which made the hair on my neck stand aloft. Strange etchings had been engraved around it with gems fitted on the lid, the design not bearing any distinct pattern to it, but suggesting importance just the same. The moment I opened it, all of my curiosity gave way to wonder. “The secret is in the box,” I said, murmuring the comment to myself.
“Brother, now is not the time for –” Robin began, but I knew when he had seen it by the soft gasp which passed through his lips. He remained quiet while I produced a rolled parchment and spoke only when I glanced in his direction. “You found it,” he said.
“I believe I have.” Robin closed the distance between us and without hesitation – moving slowly as though a man in a dream – I passed the scroll to my brother. He held accepted it with just as much reverence, unrolling it and glancing at writing I did not recognize when I peered over as well. The frown on his face seemed to indicate he had no idea what he was reading either. “Or have we not?” I asked.
“No, I think we have, but I had hoped this might be easier.” With a sigh, he rolled the parchment up again and cautiously handed it back. “Whatever language that is in, I am not familiar with it. I will need more time to examine it further.”
I nodded. “Best we leave, then.” Placing the scroll back into its box, I shut the lid and passed it over to Robin, my eyes already darting around the room again even before the container left my grip. He stood in place while I spun, turning to face the sword I had spotted. “Ah, there you are. Much as I hate to concede Zachary’s point, I am loath to fight without a blade in hand.”
“Fight? Can’t we just slip out?”
“No. I need to retrieve my katana from the guard.”
Robin scoffed while I wove around him and retrieved the weapon. “Peter, I know your attachment to your blades, but I have money. We can buy another.”
“It will not do.” As I took the weapon in hand, I tugged it from its sheath and gave its blade a quick examination. Not as maintained as I liked to keep mine, but it would still cut. “I need my sword back.”
He shot me a frown of disapproval when our eyes met again. I sighed and tossed the scabbard aside. “It has been with me this entire time,” I said. “I cannot explain why, but I
am unsettled about leaving without it.”
“And you plan to cut your way through an entire coven in order to retrieve it?” he asked.
I patted his shoulder as I walked past him. “Do not be troubled, Robin. I shall let you have this one when I have mine again.”
“As though that was my concern.” He sighed and followed behind me, to the other room where Zachary still laid. Coherency had returned to the coven master’s gaze, but he failed to look at us when we paused near him. Robin’s frown deepened. He tucked the scroll and its box under his arm. “I suppose he will be the first,” Robin said.
Glancing at my brother, I caught a slight look of melancholy in his eyes. It forced me to hesitate. “I might not have to…”
“No.” He exhaled a deep breath, his gaze shifting to me again. “If this is your calling, do it without apology, dear brother. You might be doing him a mercy.”
“By all means, go on ahead and kill me,” Zachary said, his voice hoarse as he spoke. He finally peered up at us and scowled weakly. “Traitor. You might have one victory claimed, but I’ll bellow the last laugh from hell.”
“Then burn with the others,” I said, taking hold of the sword’s hilt with both hands. Thrusting it downward, I impaled Zachary through his chest, grimacing against the wail of agony which emanated past his lips. His form turned to dust, remains replacing the elder who had lain there moments ago. I stole the moment to take a deep, steading breath, addressing my brother as I spoke. “Well, I suppose killing their master shall not make us popular with the rest of the coven. The way I see it, there are two ways we can go about doing this.”
“What ways are those?”
“We could attempt to slip out deftly, locating the guards and running for our lives after I deal with them and retrieve my sword.” I smirked. “Or, we walk out the way we came in, slaying everybody who stands in our way. I believe that might instill enough fear in those who are left not to follow after us.”
