by Diana Graves
“Fine, speak with him.” He moved aside, standing too close for comfort. But, how far away is comfortable when a demon is in the room?
“Hey,” I said lightly. I sounded downright motherly as I bent over the big bad guy. Well, I guess he wasn’t the biggest bad guy in the room. Mato was a powerful vampire, Tristan a skilled wizard, Damon a shape shifter, Ranger was a kick-ass cop, and Raphael was a freaking demon. Hell, even Michael was scarier than this guy.
“Go away!” he managed to yell at me.
He was clawing at his cheeks with his eyes shut tight. I blinked slowly. My heart was pounding with the diversity of monsters in the room, and I was drained as hell. Dizziness, nausea, and a killer headache pounded against a thin barrier. They threatened to pour over that barrier with every movement, every light that caught my eyes. I needed to rest.
“Please, tell me your name?” I asked.
He opened his eyes. He looked surprised by that question. What had he thought I was going to do, cut off each of his fingers until he told me what I wanted to know?
“John,” he said.
“John, I promise none of those men will touch you if you tell us everything you know about what’s on the other side of that door, about your boss, Admetus.”
“Anax?” he questioned. Perhaps he only went by that name these days. I nodded, and he seemed to think about it, his eyes moving over the room with a wild quickness. He nodded his head with too much enthusiasm.
“I walk right out. Go home to my wife and kids, promise me. Make them promise me too,” he cried. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
The part about his wife and kids took me back a bit. I guess it never occurred to me that the bad guys were anything other than hired thugs. I bet he even went to church, no doubt a devoted Christian, PTA member even.
“Okay.” And, I turned to the others. I had to make the bargain worded just right. I didn’t know about barguests and humans, but wizards, vampires and demons take promises extremely serious. If they can find some kind of loop hole in my bargain, they’ll use it.
“Do you all promise to let John walk out of this building unharmed, and to abandon now and forever any and all attempts of revenge on John and those he loves if he helps us to my satisfaction?”
“What a solid contract little girl,” Raphael commented.
“I see no way to harm him if we agree,” Mato said.
“Do you agree?” I asked.
Michael said, “Okay.” So did Tristan. Mato said he agreed with visible dislike.
Raphael waved a large clawed hand in front of his face. “I don’t give a shit about this mortal or his loved ones. I want Alcestis.”
“Do you agree?” I asked again. My voice sounded tired, annoyed.
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.
I looked at Damon and Ranger, and they shrugged like they could care less about him as well.
“Say it.”
“I agree,” Ranger said.
“Okay, fine,” said Damon.
“Are you pleased with this arrangement, John?” I asked.
“Yeah, okay. Beyond this door is holy ground so the demon and the vampires can’t go through the door.”
“I do not believe in such silliness,” Mato said.
“It might not hold true for vampires, but we demons cannot step foot on ground that any gods have blessed.” He turned to me, and he closed the distance between us simply by bending over to my level, even though we were feet apart.
“Listen to my words, witch. If you fail to save my wife you will wish for death before I’m done with you.” And, with that Raphael ascended in smoke through the same corner he came. I was left horrified. I was already trying to save her life. The threat was so unnecessary. My worried eyes met Mato’s. I was beginning to regret putting the priest to sleep.
ET TU, TRISTAN
AFTER THE DEMON left John was much more talkative. He told us that there were five more guards with semi-automatics waiting for us behind the door. He said that the door opened into a round chamber that acted like a circle of protection, not at all similar to a witch’s circle. A witches circle protects against all would-be invaders. The chamber was a bit more specific. The round walls were painted gold, the ground was blessed so that demons, devils and the undead couldn’t hear or see past the doorway.
“Beyond the round room there’s a cement hall that will lead you to where Anax keeps his labs, a dungeon, a ballroom and a temple to Apollo,” John said. “He’s a religious man. He’ll probably be at the temple, which is through the ballroom. His body guard, Connor, will be with him. Connor is a dangerous…man.”
Damon nodded. Bright red blood still covered much of his face and chest. It looked uncomfortable. That’s what he got for ripping a man open with his teeth. He turned to Mato. “Because of the blessing you and Michael will have to wait behind. I’m sorry. We could have used your help.”
“It’s not the blessing that’s keeping us away from the fight, it’s the rising sun.” I looked for a window to confirm it, but there were none. He must have a terrific internal clock, one honed over hundreds of years.
“You two can find shelter in my van. The back half is sectioned off. No light will leak through,” Damon said.
I was surprised to see Michael’s face distorted in anger at the prospect of not being included in the fight. He argued with Damon aggressively, but he couldn’t argue away the sun. He distanced himself from the rest of us, waiting in an entryway at the opposite side of the room. My timid brother was no more it would seem.
“Come Raina, let’s leave them to their work,” said Mato with spite. He was holding his hand out to me.
I looked at his hand, and then at the room covered in blood, bodies, and other bits. I knew that if I went with Mato and Michael I’d be safe, waiting out the fight in a warm van. Going with Mato meant I accepted being the damsel in distress, the weak woman who needed to be taken care of. I might not have been able to argue the weak part right then or the woman part, but I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone take care of me. Who should I expect to take care of me? Should I rely on an absentee father or my mother, who wanted me out of her life? No, if Admetus wasn’t stopped then more people would die. I couldn’t just walk away, and let Ranger, Damon and Tristan face him without me.
“No,” I said out loud. “I can’t leave.”
Damon gave me a flat stare that told me I was being ridiculous. “It’s not your choice. You’re leaving.”
I gave him an unfriendly look. “I can’t leave. This is my fight. I was the one kidnapped. I’m the reason you’re all even here. It’s my life on the line if we don’t succeed.”
“This is stupid,” I heard Tristan say, but I didn’t look at him.
“Tristan is right, Raina. You’re leaving with Mato and Michael right now. You’ve been through enough tonight,” Damon said, and it sounded too much like an order. I opened my mouth to argue, but he stopped me with a hand. “No, Raina, go! Take her, Mato.”
Before I could protest, Mato wrapped his arms around my waist, and lifted me like a sack of potatoes.
“Damn it Mato, I can walk! Put me down!” I yelled.
“Promise me that you will leave with me,” Mato said. He sounded more like my father than a scary vampire. He gave me all but two seconds to respond before he started walking again.
“I promise, damn it.” I said it as calmly as I could. He stopped and set me down. His eyes never left my face, as if daring me to go back on my word. Tristan, Ranger and Damon waited by the door for us to leave. I was outmanned. I wasn’t going to win this.
“Come on John,” I said to the big tattooed fellow still huddled on the floor, thoroughly soiled. He stood up awkwardly, visibly uncomfortable in his jeans. Without meeting anyone’s eyes, he came to my side, and together we followed Mato and Michael through the entryway and into a wide hall.
To our right was a long wall of tall windows, revealing a dewy green lawn encircled by tall evergreens
and a mountainous horizon. The sky was a deep cloudless navy blue with a neon pink glow in the distance.
Even though I was walking to safety, I walked like a woman condemned. My entire future was in the hands of three people with the odds stacked against them. Granted they were three very capable people, but that didn’t help ease my mind.
Everyone but Mato jumped as gun fire broke from the room we just left. The gun shots illuminated the hall like a faulty strobe light. I smelled blood.
“I won’t leave,” I said barely audible over the of gun fire.
Mato stopped walking, and looked back at me. “You gave me your word,” he said.
“I can’t go, Mato. I can’t leave here without knowing he’s dead. For all he’s done, I can’t.” I watched Mato’s face as it changed from stubborn and disagreeable to something a few degrees softer.
“I should carry you out to that van.” He closed the distance between us in a blink, and suddenly he was inches from my face. “If I stop you, will you hate me?”
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing, but something must have shown on my face, some lingering anger or stubbornness maybe.
“Go, but do not die.”
“I can’t, I’m a virgin. Virgins don’t die.”
“In my time, virgins were always the most likely to die.” And, on that charming note he leaned in and kissed me gently on my forehead before he turned to leave. I watched him walk away with Michael and John at his heels. See, that’s what happens when you depend on a dead man for words of comfort.
When I came to the den the gunfire had stopped. The door was open, casting the den in a golden haze. Tristan was wrestling a tall man to the ground. Damon wasn’t there, and Ranger was lying in a mess of blood. She wasn’t moving. I ran to Ranger’s side, and tried to find a pulse at her neck and wrists, but I couldn’t find it. I placed my hand under her nose, but no air was coming out. I opened my mind, but I didn’t sense a thought or feeling from her. She was dead.
Tristan finally landed a hit in the man’s stomach with his knee, and the man doubled over. He took aim, and put him to sleep. He stared down at the man he defeated with his eyes too wide. His long black gold hair was drenched in sweat and something thicker, blood maybe.
“Are you hurt?” I asked at him. He looked at me, but he didn’t seem to see me. He was in shock. “Are you okay?” I asked again, louder this time.
He blinked slowly. “No,” he finally answered me. He stared at me for a moment longer until his brow creased, “Get your ass to the van!”
I ignored that. “Where’s Damon?” I asked.
“Just get the hell out of here, now!”
“I can deal,” I said, standing over Ranger, and looking at what remained of the five guards…not much, besides the one man Tristan put to sleep. It looked like Ranger only had time to shoot one man before she was sprayed with led. The remaining men looked like they had been butchered to death. They were torn to pieces, like pulled pork.
“What the hell did Damon do to make their bodies look like that?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know,” Tristan said.
I nodded. He was right. Damon had a brutal side that scared me.
Tristan bent down to Ranger’s side. I wasn’t insulted that he was double checking for life signs. I hoped he’d come to a different conclusion. With all I’d been through being focused was on my wish list, not among my current abilities. When he hung his head, I knew I had been right. She was dead.
“God damn it!” he screamed. “Get out of here Raina, you can’t help here. You’re too weak,” Tristan growled at me from over Ranger’s body.
“Too weak! I’ve been through more than you know Tristan! This is my fight, mine!” I was screaming. I meant it to sound confident and demanding, but it came out a little too hysterical. A lot of tonight hadn’t truly sunken in.
“Shit, Raina!” Tristan yelled. Anger lashed out from him, hot and reckless. I didn’t want to feel that from him, and I didn’t want to see in his mind either. Call it what you will, self-preservation maybe. I shut down that part of me that could see and feel those things, and it wasn’t easy.
He visibly calmed himself, taking in slow deep breaths, and stared down at Ranger. “You’re exhausted, you’ve been beaten, kidnapped, and you’ve witnessed all this death.” Not to mention that I just barely escaped being sawed in half, long ways.
“Oh, I’ve seen death, Tristan. I’ve seen violence, and I dealt with it, and I can deal with this.”
“I know about Mark Press. I watch the news.” He shook his head with a small laugh that left me feeling cold.
“I’m going to kill him,” I told Tristan. I felt distant, chilled. My mind was made up.
“You can’t kill, Raina, you’re an elf,” he said, and he looked angry.
“All I feel is hate,” I said. I bit the sides of my cheeks so I wouldn’t cry, because if I let myself cry then I wasn’t sure I could stop.
Tristan looked at me, and it was a face I had come to recognize well. It was the face Dan gave me every time I did something that reminded him I wasn’t human. It was the face strangers gave me when they saw my red eyes, and it was the face my mom gave me the night she kicked me out of her life. It was half disgust, half confusion.
“I don’t want to lose you, too, Tristan, please.”
“Then walk away.”
“I can’t.”
“You can, you just won’t.”
“Fine, I won’t.”
“If you do this, I don’t know if I can still be your brother. I don’t know if I can love a murderer.”
I could feel the life drain out of my face, but I started walking toward the doorway that would lead me to Admetus. My head felt heavy and light at the same time. I’d lost my family, but that didn’t change what I had to do.
“Raina! Come back! You can’t kill him!” Tristan shouted after me. I stopped walking, and looked back at my brother. He was breathing heavy, hyperventilating. “How can you go against everything that you are? How will you live with yourself after you do this?”
“How could I live with myself if I don’t do this, Tristan?” I said.
His shoulders fell, and I started down the hall. He was a proud wizard, and a proud elf, like Mom. I didn’t know what the hell I was anymore, but I knew what I needed to do.
TH
E BALLROOM
THE HALL WAS damp, cold, and it smelled putrid, like something dead and rotting. Naked wires, metal pluming and light bulbs hung from the ceiling. I walked cautiously because I so didn’t want to get lost in the laboratory of a mad ex-immortal fucking with vampirism.
The hall branched off at several locations. I didn’t have time to follow each path presented or search behind each door. I opened myself back up, searching with my mind, searching for thoughts or emotions to follow.
I sensed Tristan. He was carrying Ranger’s body out to Damon’s van. He was angry and sad, but mostly angry. I just didn’t care anymore. I ignored him. There were more pressing matters than my overly emotional brother. I walked farther down the hall, listening carefully with my mind. Thoughts were like static in the background until I came to a large metal door. Then I felt Damon loud and clear. He was screaming in his head, screaming his thoughts because he wouldn’t dare scream out loud, “OUTRAGEOUS, MONSTROUS, PURE EVIL!” Those were his thoughts screaming through my mind. I laid my hands on the door, and an image sprang into my head too fast to recognize, but it sent my head between my knees until I could trust myself not to vomit. When my stomach settled I braced myself to open the door. I bit my bottom lip, and held my breath as I slowly pressed down on the handle.
The door opened to a gymnasium sized room with tall windows and soft music coming from small white speakers that hung discreetly from the four corners. The walls were white painted wood panels with murals decorating each gigantic panel. A family tree growing larger and larger as the panels progressed around the room. The name at t
he bottom of the tree was, Admetus. The art reminded me of ancient Greek pottery. The chandelier that hung heavily from the ceiling was made of twisted dark metals. For all its mass it gave off a thankfully small amount of light.
From the moment I opened the door I was overwhelmed by the most awful smell imaginable, the unmistakable smell of death: sweet and bitter, and oh so nauseating. There was blood everywhere, little hand prints, large arching sprays covered the walls, and great big puddles littered the floor. The bodies were left in a pile, a massive pile of blood, limbs, and faces distorted in pain and shock.
“By the Gods,” I said. I felt my heart drop, and I fought the urge to puke or run…or both.
“Raina,” I heard Damon say.
I searched for him, and found him at the far end of the pile, “What is this?”
“A massacre.”
I took in a deep breath, and regretted it immediately. “Admetus killed his family.” He nodded, and walked back toward me.
With my empathic ability wide open I couldn’t tell my screaming thoughts from Damon’s, but there was something else, something quieter. I had to master my mind, to ignore the sickly sweat metallic taste of ripe innards that was hitting the back of my tongue as I breathed, to look beyond the glazed over eyes, torn flesh and drying blood. I had to.
“Damon, think quieter please. I think I hear something,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t question it, because whatever I was sensing was getting fainter. I didn’t think it would last a drawn out explanation if Damon wanted one. Thankfully, he didn’t. He quickly found some mundane thing in the room to focus on. A name on one of the family trees that he recognized, Clare Scott, an old friend from college.
Immediately I could feel something, someone, a terrible feeling of panic and hopelessness. I opened my eyes wide, as though I could see the person through the mass of broken bodies. Holy shit, someone was still alive in there!
