Devil’s Blood: Shade of Devil Book 3

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Devil’s Blood: Shade of Devil Book 3 Page 29

by Shayne Silvers


  Nosh spit on him and then stepped to the side. Izzy motioned me to join her, waving a satchel of blood bags she was carrying. I glanced down at my side, wincing at the blood soaking my shirt and pants. I muttered a curse as I made my way over to her.

  “You need to drink as much as possible, Sorin,” she said, shoving a blood bag into my hands. I tore it open and began to drink, turning back to the crowd and Dracula’s current predicament. They had formed an angry tunnel of monsters, forcing him to walk between them.

  Dracula climbed to his feet—hurried along by Nero’s tugging of the leash. The necromancer pointed ahead, silently commanding Dracula to lead the way between the walls of vampires and werewolves. Dracula began to walk, his shoulders wilting under the glares from hundreds of monsters.

  Then they began pelting him with trash, vegetables, paint, and other bundles of filth. Sticks, rocks, anything they could get their hands on. I sucked down the blood faster, approving of his walk of shame.

  Izzy cleared her throat, speaking softly. “Nosh was very upset about how easily he’s getting off,” she said, staring at Dracula.

  I nodded. “I can see that. He set all this up?”

  Izzy nodded, and I saw that her eyes were red-rimmed. “He was…uniquely motivated.” She saw that I was finished with my bag and handed me another one—already opened. I took it, studying her. “What’s wrong, Izzy?”

  She hung her head. “I’m just so pissed off right now. The Sisters threw me to the curb for absolutely no reason, the Cauldron says the High Priestess might be corrupt, and who ends up winning the grand prize at the end of the day? For doing absolutely nothing!” she hissed, clenching her teeth. “And Dracula’s getting off easy! Nosh isn’t even talking to me. He puts on a brave face whenever you are around, but he turns dark the moment you look away,” she whispered, sounding frightened. “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s a wreck.”

  “Like what?” I asked, lowering my drink. Nosh had seemed angry, but not in any alarming way. I turned to see that Nosh was now walking beside Nero, a safe distance behind Dracula, who was walking with his head down and eyes closed, flinching at every impact. His naked body was covered in splashes of paint, filth, and even glitter. He looked absolutely ridiculous. Nosh walked in quiet fury, glaring daggers at Dracula’s back.

  Staring with pure murder.

  “He was crying, Sorin,” Izzy whispered. “Angry, violent sobbing. I…think he’s going to do something reckless at the church. If the Sisters don’t handle Dracula in a way that Nosh approves of…” she trailed off meaningfully and let out a sob of her own.

  I grimaced, suddenly frustrated. Nosh would ruin the exchange. That was what she was saying. I couldn’t have that. It would put Natalie and Victoria in danger. If he didn’t have his head right, I couldn’t risk bringing him. “This is the best way out of our problem. Do you have any idea how badly I want to torture that man? I want to rip his fingernails off one-by-one, let them grow back, and then do it again. Over years, Izzy. But this is the only way to get the devils back safely.”

  She shrugged. “I know, Sorin, and I accept it. I tried telling Nosh that. He’s like a brick wall.”

  The crowds were inching dangerously close to Dracula, and alarm bells started ringing in my mind. Was Nosh trying to do something right now? A happy accident?

  I spotted Renfield frowning warily at the crowd, and that’s when I saw the dagger in Nosh’s hand. He lunged for Dracula’s unprotected back, and werewolves suddenly began to howl as all hell broke loose, everyone diving towards Dracula—my only bargaining chip.

  Izzy gasped in alarm. In seconds, there was a pile of bodies swamping the pair. Two thoughtful werewolves dumped their cans of paint on top of the pile in hopes it would break up the chaos. “Disperse, you idiots!” they shouted, casting panicked looks my way. “Dracula is not yours to kill!”

  No one listened.

  Izzy shouted, flinging her hands into the air. A brilliant white light flared to life, brighter than the sun, followed by a thunderous crack. It worked significantly better than the two cans of paint. Werewolves and vampires fled in every direction, hissing and whining as they scattered away from the concussive blast and flash of light. I saw Renfield standing over the pile, throwing people off to get to Nosh and Dracula.

  “Renfield! Get Nosh out of here! Put him in the museum prison. Now!” I hissed, hoping no one else overheard me. Then I raised my voice loud enough that it echoed throughout the park. “If I see one vampire within one hundred feet of Dracula in the next five seconds, I’m ending them myself!”

  The rest of the vampires scattered. Lucian howled one time and the werewolves loped away as if his fangs were nipping at their heels.

  Nero climbed to his feet, covered in paint. His skeletal claw glowed with infernal light and his glare was furious enough to murder upon contact. Renfield shrugged out of his long coat and grabbed Nosh by the arm, yanking him up to his feet. He was covered in paint and jerking, his attention seemingly everywhere at once. Renfield threw his coat around Nosh’s shoulders to keep the chill from the wet paint off him. Also, to hide the fact that he was abducting my son. Because if anyone saw Nosh in chains, they might react first and think later—especially after Benjamin had recently betrayed us.

  They might think Renfield was another traitor.

  Renfield glanced around warily and then discreetly slapped a pair of nullification cuffs over Nosh’s wrists. He also swatted the dagger out of his hand before Nosh got any bright ideas. Then he was shoving him away, back towards the museum.

  Nero waited until Nosh was safely out of reach before tugging Dracula to his feet by the spine leash. I let out a sigh of relief to only see a long gash down his shoulder from Nosh’s blade. He looked terrified, his eyes darting back and forth as if expecting another assault.

  Izzy was openly crying, staring at Nosh being marched away. “I told you,” she whispered.

  I took several deep breaths, trying to mask my rage. He’d almost gotten my devils killed. “He will be fine, Izzy. He just needs to cool his head and see reason. He’ll be better when we get back. When he sees Natalie and Victoria safe and sound.”

  She nodded shakily. “I’m sorry, Sorin. All this just brought too much back to the surface.” I nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. She clutched her hand atop mine, looking mildly embarrassed but appreciative for my physical touch. “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” she reassured me, squeezing my hand.

  “No. I was going to ask if you have any more blood bags.” I said.

  She choked out a laugh and nodded. She reached into her satchel to hand me another bag. I tore off the top and guzzled it, accepting another—the last one in her satchel—before I turned back to Nero. He had the spine leash draped over his neck and was fitting the nullification cuffs he had brought into the castle over Dracula’s wrists.

  I frowned. “Thank you, Izzy. I think we’re going to leave before anything else happens.”

  She nodded. “Another bizarre event,” she murmured, thinking out loud. I grimaced, recalling her earlier comment about the same thing. The storm of oddities crackling throughout my forces. As if someone was orchestrating it.

  I glanced back at the Nephilim to find them clutching both of their scythes, casting hooded glares over the insanity, but proving their cool headedness by continuing to guard the gates. They noticed my attention and dipped their chins at me. I waved my hand and the fog crashed back together, closing the tunnel of clear space as I approached Nero and Lucian—who were both guarding Dracula with murderous dedication.

  “What is this?” I asked, frowning at the nullification cuffs and then the spine bracelet hanging over Nero’s shoulders. “Why switch out the spines?”

  Nero shook the cuffs firmly, making Dracula wince as they bit into his flesh. “I didn’t want to have to explain the spines to the Sisters and risk harming their delicate sensibilities,” he muttered. I shot him a frown. “I also don’t want them knowing just
how capable I am—you have a lot of undead friends, and I would hate for the Sisters to learn how they are made.” I winced at the thought of that. “These will work fine. Tried and true. I could use a fishing line on the poor bastard right now.”

  Dracula’s filthy face was filled with terror as he glanced back and forth, still expecting another mob attack. I grunted, feeling absolutely no empathy, but a whole lot of frustration.

  “What the fuck was all that about, Sorin?” Nero demanded. “Nosh is a pretty mellow guy. He could have ruined everything.”

  I gritted my teeth, finishing off my bloodbag and ignoring the instant gush of blood down my side. It almost felt pointless. “Which is why we are leaving. Now.”

  “Come on, Lucian. We’re going to church.”

  The werewolf growled warningly at Dracula. Nero waved him off.

  “What about the spines?” I asked, since Nero still had them draped over his shoulders.

  Nero grunted. “Right,” he muttered, sounding embarrassed. “Um…”

  I turned to the Nephilim and let out a sharp whistle. Eve came running over, looking as if she expected an attack. Dracula immediately crumpled to the ground and curled into the fetal position.

  Nero chuckled.

  “Can you take the spine leash for me and keep it safe?” I asked Eve. “We don’t want anyone knowing about them.” She nodded, plucking the spines off Nero’s shoulder. She studied me for a few seconds as if waiting for another command. “That will be all. Thank you, Eve.”

  She nodded slowly. “Yes, Master Ambrogio.”

  Then she turned, jogging through the mist towards Adam. Nero pulled Dracula back to his feet and sighed longingly at Eve’s rear through the eddying fog.

  “The worst thing about death, Drac, is that you’ll never again get to see something so beautiful as a bare Nephilim ass frolicking through the fogs of hell.”

  Dracula slowly turned to look at him with a strange look on his face.

  Nero shrugged. “Sucks to be you, eh?”

  “Let’s go,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  Izzy ran up to us, panting. “I want to go with you. I’ll take Nosh’s place.”

  I frowned at her, considering. It would be helpful to have a witch on our side, and Nosh definitely wasn’t welcome.

  “I want to see the High Priestess who exiled me,” she said firmly. “And you could use another fighter,” she said, lifting back her coat to reveal her two pistols.

  I glanced at Lucian and then Nero. “You two do not have guns, so she’s coming.”

  Nero smiled. “We are going to church, and I’ve always loved nuns.”

  I nodded at her. “Don’t pick a fight. I want an easy exchange, and then Nero is getting us the hell out of there. I have somewhere to go immediately after this,” I said, feeling the blood spilling from my side. I currently felt full of power, but my blood reserves were steadily leaking out. I needed to visit Hades and find the solution to my wound. Before Artemis killed me by bleeding me to death.

  The vampire mixer would have to wait.

  “Bring it in,” Nero said, motioning for us to all touch each other.

  46

  Nero teleported us to a dark alley a few blocks away from Trinity Church. The Financial District was far from Central Park, near the southern tip of the island, so for the first time in a week, human witnesses became a concern. And by concern, I meant a huge fucking problem, because Dracula was naked and filthy.

  Lucian was sniffing the ground, walking back and forth across the alley as his first real taste of city life filled his nostrils. I smiled absently at him. I remembered how new it had all been to me after I woke up from my long slumber. It had been overwhelming. Lucian’s tail was wagging, so he seemed to be handling it better than I had. He lifted his head to stare deeper into the alley, his ears pricking up as he cocked his head. He sniffed curiously and then went back to sweeping the ground, walking back and forth with endless curiosity.

  I glanced deeper into the alley just to make sure he wasn’t dismissing a very real threat. I saw only a sleeping homeless man covered in a makeshift blanket of filthy newspapers. Definitely not a threat, so I dismissed him as well.

  I glanced the other direction. The streets beyond the alley were packed with lines of honking cars, hundreds of shouting drivers and pedestrians, strings of discordant music from every genre, whiffs of exotic food from both restaurants and street vendors, and the putrid stink of excess waste, courtesy of civilization.

  But beneath it all, blood. Every flavor imaginable from the melting pot of humanity that was Manhattan: spicy, sweet, tangy, mild, thick, thin, peppery, smoky, and everything between. It made me both violently hungry and nauseatingly ill.

  I shot Nero a concerned look, pointing my finger beyond the alley at the bustling city life, and he nodded his agreement. “Probably why the Sisters of Mercy chose the spot.”

  Despite the difficulties this added to my plan, there was a potential benefit. It meant the Sisters did not want a full-blown battle or else they would have chosen an isolated location. They wanted an uneventful trade. This observation did little to appease my frustration, though. Thanks to Nosh’s inability to control his temper outside my castle, I had been pushed into immediately handling the situation with Dracula rather than heading to the Underworld and seeking out a potential remedy for my wound.

  I let out a frustrated breath, silently admitting that I was just making excuses, heaping additional blame on Nosh’s shoulders out of anger over his decision. Disappointment, really. Because even if he hadn’t attacked Dracula, I doubted I would have entertained the idea of leaving Nero and Lucian on the mountain where Artemis had shot me—even with the knowledge that time would be frozen and they should be relatively safe.

  Now that I had Dracula in my hands and out in the open, I was uncharacteristically paranoid that something terrible was about to happen. The prize I had sought for so long was finally in my grasp, and I was about to give him away. If anything—anything—ruined my handoff with the Sisters of Mercy, Natalie and Victoria would die.

  Period.

  I was barely able to keep Dracula out of my peripheral vision without my pulse ratcheting up. I’d spoken with Izzy for about a minute—outside my own castle with no enemies in sight—and Dracula had almost died. I had almost lost my chance to save Natalie and Victoria.

  I realized that I was—again—checking to make sure that Dracula was still safe in our custody, and I let out a frustrated sigh. “Why the fuck did you have him strip?” I demanded, rounding on Nero.

  He winced guiltily. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he replied very carefully, sensing how lame his excuse sounded when said out loud. “I wanted to demoralize him.”

  I sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m just tense, is all. I’m so focused on saving Natalie and Victoria, that my emotions are getting the best of me,” I admitted. “I feel like we’re going to lose him before we have a chance to use him.”

  I remembered how Nero had possessed him with his spine leash, making Dracula’s eyes turn purple, and I shuddered. Was that a gift Nero had over any vampire or had it been a facet of the leash? Could he, for example, do that to me right now?

  I decided to ease up on Nero until I found out.

  Nero was studying Dracula uneasily, licking his lips.

  Izzy cleared her throat meekly, squeezing my shoulder fondly. “Let’s all take a deep breath and focus on what really matters. Trading this worthless sack of shit for your devils. Then we leave with them in hand and go to the vampire dance.” She smiled reassuringly, swiping her palms together in a familiar gesture. “Easy, peasy.”

  Nero nodded, still looking uneasy. Maybe my paranoia really was rubbing off on him. I decided some levity was in order. I cast Izzy a disapproving smile. “Nuns shouldn’t swear.”

  She smiled, batting her eyelashes. “You’re right. How about this? His mother should have swallowed.”

  My face purpled and Nero let out
a choking, high-pitched laugh, sputtering incredulously.

  Dracula looked up, snapping out of his depression to cast the ex-Sister a deeply hurt look.

  Izzy’s smile faltered and her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. Perhaps that was too much—”

  I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “No. I just…didn’t know you had it in you.”

  Her shoulders relaxed in relief. “Nosh is a bad influence on me, I guess.”

  A sound from deeper in the alley drew my attention, and I turned to see the homeless man staring at us with a nervous frown. “Remind me to talk to him about his foul mouth,” I murmured to Izzy, eyeing the homeless man as he climbed to his feet and began gathering up his papers.

  I turned to look at the naked Dracula, sizing him up and down. He was currently huddled in on himself to avoid the faint chill to the air. The wound on his back was filthy. Long term, I didn’t care about his well-being, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t die before I got a chance to trade him for my devils. He was already severely weakened after Hades had drained him of blood and we had killed his brides. Now he was wounded, wet, naked, and afraid.

  “This is going to be an issue,” I said, indicating his lack of clothes.

  Nero scratched at his stubble, eyeing Izzy’s long trench coat sidelong. “We could cross-dress him,” he said, smirking. “Count Drag-ula.”

  Dracula blanched, but kept his face aimed at the ground, knowing better than to argue.

  “Not with my coat, you won’t,” Izzy argued.

  I didn’t understand the terms Nero had used, but I assumed they meant putting Dracula in female clothes. Since a coat was hardly a female garment, I ignored the pair.

  “Do either of you have any money? Because that man’s coat could resolve our problem.”

  Lucian was panting at the homeless man, wagging his tail in a friendly manner as Nero and Izzy looked over at him. He flinched at the sudden attention, looking ready to make a run for it, but Nero was already waving a sheaf of cash at him in one hand. “Hello, friend. Two-hundred-dollars for your coat?”

 

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