Tonight was the night I decided to go back to the temple. Even though the doors were heavily guarded all around, that wouldn't keep me out. The temple was a tall octagonal building, nearly three stories high with eight wide double doors. Four of those doors were on the southern half going into the main temple itself; the other four on the north side opened into the priests' quarters, the refectory and the administrative offices. That would have made me snort if I still had lungs and breath to do it. What did they do or discuss inside those offices? Killings and sacrifices? I'd bet it wasn't prayer and feeding the hungry. No time like the present to slip inside and see if I could find out. Just to be on the safe side I slipped through a crack beneath one of the northern doors. I knew it wasn't the refectory—there would be a smell of food behind that door.
What I found was a warren of rooms and offices. Had they promoted everybody? I didn't see any spaces for the common herd. Nobody was getting a corner office, that much I knew since the temple was almost round. The sound of voices chanting drew me down a long narrow hall and then down more stone steps into inky blackness. Beneath the temple, I found spaces for the common herd—there were multiple levels with mazes of sleeping cells and rooms on each level, many of them holding sleeping priests. I discovered that night that there were more priests there than the local authorities or media suspected. The darkness throughout the lower cells and cubicles might have discouraged anyone else, but I could see just fine, no flashlights or torches needed, thanks.
I found the torches eventually, along with the chanting priests; there were burning torches placed at all four corners of an altar. A man was chained naked to its stained marble surface. It stank of blood, both old and fresh. This was a regular occurrence, I could tell. There was no mercy or clemency for this poor soul; he'd already been tortured. Burns and slices that oozed blood covered his chest and arms, while something had been branded across his face right over the eyes, rendering him sightless. Some schmuck was drawing out a lengthy, sharp knife as six of his best buddies, all dressed in the red robes of the priesthood, recited an ignorant litany that the sacrifice would feed the god. As of now, that god was on my shit list.
Schmuck with the knife was the first to go; he didn't have time to squeak before his head, along with a lot of his blood, was splattered against the stone wall that surrounded the circular chamber. The six remaining priests all tried to flee through the door at the same time, making it ridiculously easy to pick them off. They still hadn't seen their enemy and that was fine with me. They were all relieved of their heads; it was obvious they weren't using them to think with anyway.
My claws sliced right through the chains that held the prisoner and he moaned just before I turned him to mist and got the hell out of there. I felt his fear and pain as I misted away faster than I'd ever gone anywhere before. I had no idea where the nearest hospital was and that made me want to weep. The man was probably dying but I wanted to give him as much of a chance as I could. Dragon! I sent out a shouted message. Where's the nearest hospital from the temple?
Two miles, south and east, came the swift reply. I misted in that direction as quickly as I could. The building was taller than those surrounding it and I dived down and right through the sliding doors into the Refizani version of an emergency room. Someone was waiting for me and it surprised me greatly. Karzac was there, dressed in physician's blue. He knew I was there, somehow, although I was still mist.
Follow me, he instructed, his mindspeech terse. He strode down a hallway as quickly as he could, turning into a room on the right.
I'm in, I sent as I zipped past Karzac. He closed and locked the door behind him. There was an examination table inside the room so I rematerialized, laying the tortured man as carefully as I could across the surface.
Karzac can multitask—he was cursing and examining the man at the same time. "Young woman, please make yourself invisible or leave. I must call for assistance. This is the Vice-Governor of the realm." Karzac was a doctor, all right. He was used to giving orders. I went immediately to mist while Karzac lifted a small communicator and shouted into it, calling for additional personnel and medical supplies. He unlocked the door, too, so they could all come inside.
Karzac was elbow deep in treating the man when I left. Misting back to the temple, I found it angrier than a kicked anthill. Three vans pulled out of a nearby rectangular building; it was a garage, I discovered. I followed the vans, thinking along the way that if the god had been hungry, I'd left him plenty to snack on.
The vans traveled northward outside the city, following a road that ran alongside the river much of the time. The last of the houses and warehouses were left behind after an hour and we traveled another hour beyond that before coming into wide farmland. Four priests stepped out of each van after pulling to a stop, and together they all walked toward an open field.
"We beg the god to come to us," one of the priests lifted his arms in prayer. He and the other eleven went to their knees in the pasture, waiting for something to come. I hovered as mist, waiting to see who (or what) the priests were waiting for. Ten minutes went by, with all the priests remaining on their knees before anything happened.
Eight men showed up. Right out of nowhere, just as I'd seen Pheligar do and what Griffin could do as well. One walked ahead of the other seven. Was that the god? I misted closer for a better look.
"You have disappointed me," that one said. He was tall—nearly as tall as Gavin, with dark hair and pale, yellow eyes. The scent that washed off him was one I'd never forget, either. If somebody else could smell more evil than that, I didn't want to meet them. "You were to bring me the one I requested, yet here you are empty-handed while he receives treatment for his wounds. Explain this!" he shouted.
"We cannot." The one who'd invoked the god spoke, his head still bowed. "Something invisible crept past our guards."
"That is a lie. My enemy would give away his presence if he were to do such a thing," the man snarled. "Tell me and I will consider sparing your lives."
"We speak the truth." The man was terrified. He was speaking the truth. I knew that. This wasn't much of a god if he didn't know the truth from a lie.
"You will return to the others and inform them that they must perform better or your life and theirs will be forfeit. You will leave me now but the others must remain." The god stared speculatively at the other eleven priests.
"Of course, lord," the priest rose, bowed several times and took off swiftly across the field toward one of the vans. He was inside it and backing up when the god lost his façade of humanity. I might have shrieked if I could have, when he became a monster.
A gleaming, copper-scaled serpent he became, nearly fifty feet in length and at least three feet thick, with spikes surrounding a crest on his head, more spikes at the end of his lengthy tail, and teeth—they were many and each was long and sharp. He had two priests gulped down his thick throat before they could even contemplate running. Another two followed the first two, but they'd gotten up and tried to get away by that time.
Four was the giant snake's limit, I guess, because he slithered back, allowing his seven apprentices to come forward. They changed, too, just not into giant serpents. These turned into something ugly, their human-like skin splitting while the ugly thing emerged, like a butterfly's chrysalis bursting open to reveal a monster. They kept their humanoid shape but were a muddy brown in color, were completely hairless and had fangs wide-spaced in large mouths. They fell on the seven remaining priests, ripping and tearing into them. They weren't as neat in their table manners as the serpent had been, either. The monsters clawed the priests apart before eating them, and it was difficult listening to the screams before they died.
Is this what was hanging over the priests' heads if they didn't perform, or were the priests apt pupils who were rewarded or punished according to their performance? My money was on the latter. They didn't have to torture the poor schmuck I'd hauled to the hospital. He could have been handed over whole, but he wouldn't h
ave been.
When the priests were consumed, leaving bloody and torn clothing scattered across the field, the serpent regained his human shape. His seven apprentices all stayed the same, however.
"Go and feed upon the population, turning them into others such as yourselves when you sate your hunger," the god instructed before disappearing. The seven ugly creatures started walking toward the city. Well, god or no god, I was about to see if I could kill these things.
They didn't turn to fight until I'd already taken three heads. They can move in a blur if they're threatened though. I found that out as they rushed me. They also can't fight what they can't see—I learned that, too, going to mist when they all attacked at once. One got a lengthy claw into my left arm when I materialized to take his head, but he died just like the others.
Vampires turn to ash when they die. Humans and werewolves just drop where they're killed. These things, whatever they were, blasted out in some sort of heavy sand or particles when they died. It was as if they wanted a last chance at doing harm, but their particles weren't large enough to do much damage. By the time I was done, I stood there in that wide, empty field, holding my arm (which was bleeding sluggishly) and wondering just what it was that I'd killed. I was also feeling extremely thankful that vampires didn't explode when they died.
Still pondering my current list of ambiguities, I misted to the apartment and found Dragon sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of strong tea. "What happened?" he asked, eyeing my wound as I materialized inside the kitchen. Going to the sink, I turned on the tap, preparing to wash out my gash.
"You're not going to believe this," I said. "I followed twelve priests out to farmland north of here, and they stood out in a field, calling for their god. A man and seven others just appeared out of nowhere. The one who thought he was a god threatened one of the priests and sent him back to the temple. He then changed to this awful snake thing that had to be at least fifty feet long and ate four of the priests."
Dragon pulled a first aid kit from under the sink and had gauze in his hand when he drew in a breath and stared at me.
"You didn't get this from him, did you?" He had my arm in his hands quickly.
"No," I said. "His seven dwarves turned into something ugly and they ate the other priests after tearing them apart. The serpent guy changed back to his human-looking self, told the others to eat people in the city and turn some of them, then took off. I killed the dwarves, but one of them gave me this." I nodded toward my arm, which Dragon still held in his hands. He blinked at me; I noticed how dark his eyes were—they were nearly black. Dragon has nice eyes, when he isn't scowling.
"Those things are demons," Dragon informed me calmly while he took over scrubbing my wound. It hurt, but then it hurt when I was doing it, too. "I imagine you witnessed the dusting when you killed them?" He focused on removing a bit of debris lodged in the wound.
"Dusting? Is that what that was—when their bodies turned into sand particles and blasted toward me?"
"Yes. All of them do it and the older they are, the larger the particles and more dangerous and deadly they are. It is a final effort to destroy an enemy." Dragon poured more soap into my wound and kept working. Well, I'd been right on that account, at least, and was thankful these demons were relatively new.
"Where do the demons come from?" I asked. "Can they really turn people into what they are?"
"Yes. It happens quickly," Dragon answered my second question first. "All a demon has to do is bite a humanoid and within thirty seconds the humanoid's life is no longer his own. The demon's seed is in their saliva and is nearly impossible to eradicate, once it is introduced into the bloodstream. The serpent that you saw tonight is the enemy I hunt. He is a member of the race known as the Ra'Ak, and the demons are Ra'Ak young. If this Ra'Ak had sensed your presence, he would be hunting you, now. If you managed to escape, that is."
"That's comforting," I grumbled.
"I wish I had been there; I could have challenged him then," Dragon mumbled, rinsing my wound under the faucet.
"Is that why you're here? To kill that thing?" I studied Dragon's head; he was bent over my arm a little. His hair was the blackest I'd ever seen, hanging in a thick braid down to his waist.
"That is my purpose, as it is for every Saa Thalarr. We were created to challenge the Ra'Ak. They are a great evil and were never intended to be among the Worlds of Light. They destroyed the Dark Worlds, long ago. All but one, that is. The High Demons' world is still intact."
"High Demons? Are they like those things I saw earlier?"
"No," Dragon gave a quick shake of his head as he dried off my arm. "Will this heal during your sleep?" he asked, lifting his dark eyes to my face.
"Yes, but it might be a good idea to wrap it up a little, so the edges will close properly."
Dragon wrapped my arm. "High Demons might be indistinguishable from most humanoids," he explained as he wound gauze around my gash. "Until they become angry or turn for some reason. Then they are very dangerous. The Ra'Ak have no hold over them and cannot defeat them, unless there are many Ra'Ak to only one High Demon. That is why their world survives."
"Sounds as though the High Demons should have kicked Ra'Ak ass and kept them away from the things they didn't need to get into," I huffed.
"The High Demon agenda is known only to the High Demons," Dragon muttered softly. "We do not attempt to explain their doings."
"If I see Mr. Long, Coppery and Snaky again, what should I do?" I asked.
"Stay away," Dragon said. "Every part of his body is poisonous—teeth, claws and spikes. Each scale, even, is tipped with deadly poison. Those priests would have died anyway if the Ra'Ak had merely brushed against them."
"Good information to have," I drew a shaky breath. I had the fucker's scent, now. I'd know him from half a mile away, in fact. There'd be plenty of time to get out of his way.
"Call me with mindspeech if you see him again," Dragon instructed. "I warn you, I will have to come within his presence by conventional means. If I employ my power, he will sense this and destroy the planet using the power and abilities that he has at his disposal. Any Ra'Ak has the strength to destroy worlds, but that is not their true goal. They survive upon the flesh and blood of humanoids. They seek a food source, first and foremost. It is the work of my kind to see that the Ra'Ak do not devour the universes."
"Holy crap," I muttered. "You live this dangerously all the time?"
"Quite a bit of the time, yes," Dragon smiled and tied off the gauze. "Karzac is working late tonight."
"My fault," I said. "I hauled a torture victim to him at the hospital. He may still be working on that guy."
"That's why you wanted the information."
"Yeah."
Karzac wandered in half an hour before dawn, looking as if he'd been in a fight. I made a cup of tea for him before going to bed. Dragon had already gone to sleep; I could hear his soft snore as I passed his bedroom.
* * *
"Sorry, didn't realize anybody would be here." I'd strolled into the living area to get my news fix, carrying a bag of blood. Dragon and Karzac were both up watching the news so I turned to go back to the bedroom.
"You will not upset us by having a meal in our presence," Karzac scooted over on the sofa. Dragon had the easy chair taken up. Seriously, that man was all muscle and had his shirt off tonight. No surprise where he gets his name; he had dragons tattooed everywhere, including one huge one on his chest and another large dragon on his back, with smaller dragons flying up and down his arms.
I sat down on the end of the sofa; Karzac now had the other side and we watched the news together while I sipped my blood. It was a partial bag and just enough for my meal.
"The Vice-Governor of the realm is in critical condition at a local hospital," a journalist announced. "Authorities claim he was tortured by Solar Red. The temple is denying the allegations, asking instead for proof of their involvement. No arrests have been made."
"Fuckers," I mutter
ed, rising to dump the empty blood bag inside the canister in my bedroom. I'd figured out what it was for, finally. It was kept cool; plugged into a socket so the bags wouldn't smell because of residual blood left within.
"Are you off today?" I asked when I came back and sat down.
"This is off-day; everyone is off on this day," Karzac explained. "You may go to the streets this evening and there will be people sharing food and drink—no one will be working except journalists, medical personnel and law enforcement. Those employees switch and have every other off-day."
"That's nice," I said. "Now, tell me how Solar Red came to be here in the first place."
"The Ra'Ak brought them in," Karzac muttered, sounding angry and frustrated. "This is a legitimate if brutal religion from another star system," he added, turning to face me. "We have space travel, as you might imagine, and these priests were shipped in by the hundreds. At first, they convinced the populace to listen to them because Refizan was experiencing a dramatic rise in crime—killings and thefts, among other things—that began shortly before Solar Red arrived. All carefully orchestrated by the Ra'Ak, as you may have guessed. The Solar Red priests promised order and safety, wriggling their way into acceptance in this way. The crime rate dropped sharply after they came, but now it is rising again. The Ra'Ak are behind this; they are attempting to take the planet and the darker and more evil it is, the easier it will be for them. Refizan is peaceful and has no standing army—hasn't needed one for a very long while. We are protected by Alliance troops if we are attacked, but a renegade religion is not considered an attack."
"I am going out tonight; there are demons in the east side of the city," Dragon said. Only then did I notice he had two swords lying on the small table beside his chair; they were sheathed and he lifted them up, along with a shirt.
"Is that how you take their heads?" I asked, nodding toward his blades.
Blood Domination (Blood Destiny #4) Page 5
