I went after the vampires as mist, taking heads swiftly. A large man who had many others surrounding him was hit in the head by one of Lendill's shots—the man was taller than his guards. His head exploded, sending his guards scattering like pigeons.
"Norian!" I shouted—four lion snake shapeshifters had appeared and they were viciously biting anything that came near—friend and enemy alike. Norian turned in my direction when I shouted, barely avoiding decapitation by another vampire who had appeared out of nothing—Black Mist's misters had arrived. I went after them as mist. The blackest of purple-blacks—that's how they appeared to me. Using a small amount of power, I forced them back to corporeality. The moment they were solid, they died.
Norian was firing at lion snakes. Lendill, too, had started firing at the shapeshifters. A large window in the side of the building was blown out by gunfire and three of Norian's agents were hurled through the opening. I had less than a second to react. Should I save them or keep fighting?
* * *
"I not have my tools," one of Farzi's brothers whimpered as he followed Zellar and his brothers.
"Shut up or I'll kill you," Zellar snarled. The shapeshifter hushed quickly. Zellar was leading them toward a side door that led to the street between buildings. The noise was loud enough from the upper floor that Zellar knew all the building's inhabitants were engaged. He needed to get as far away as he could—he didn't want to risk Viregruz's wrath or allow any remaining warlocks to feel his power signature when he folded the shapeshifters away. Zellar had plans, and they no longer included Black Mist or Solar Red.
* * *
My geometry classes always taught me that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Misting in a straight line would have taken too much time and Norian's agents would have died. Instead, I folded space, disappearing from point A and reappearing at point B, with barely enough time to keep three operatives from splattering against the brick streets six stories below. Capturing them as mist, I settled them onto the street.
"We're all right," one nodded, nervously lifting his weapon. I knew what that weapon was—Norian had equipped three of his people with the same. Flame throwers. They were the weapon of choice to combat vampires, and probably the reason this man had survived. Many of Norian's people had gotten decapitated before I could get to all the vampires.
"Good," I nodded at the agent's words. "Ready to go back?" I was ready to fold them back anyway when movement caught my eye. In the darkness of the smoke-filled night, most humanoids would have missed it. I was vampire and could see more than well enough in the dark.
"Get down," I hissed, pulling the man down. His two companions dropped beside us. I watched—more movement. The three agents didn't see what I did. I pulled the flamethrower away from Norian's agent. If it were vampire, it was about to be hit. What appeared instead shocked me.
A man stole through the shadows, followed by eight others. While my eyesight is good, I'm not sure I would have suspected if Norian hadn't shown me the vid-photos. These men were all shorter than the man they followed; Just as the reptanoids on Norian's vid-recordings had been. Someone was leading reptanoids away from the battle. I wondered who it might be.
"Stop there!" I shouted, rising and pointing the flamethrower. I barely had time to fire the thing before all nine disappeared before my eyes.
Shouting and cursing, I folded all three agents back to the battle. Tossing the flamethrower to the agent I'd borrowed it from, I went back to work, removing heads. Thankfully, Norian and Lendill were still alive, although there were only six of the thirty ASD agents remaining. Three of those were the ones I'd saved. I kicked things into a higher gear.
Chapter 15
"Is that all of them?" Norian had called in extra people from somewhere. Honestly, the man has more resources than anyone I'd ever seen before. Bodies were quickly separated into different areas, friends on one side, enemies on the other.
"Yes," I said aloud. No, I sent mentally.
What is it? Norian returned. Aloud he said, "Well, let's get them loaded up, then. Lendill, can you take care of that for me?" Lendill nodded at Norian's question and went to issue orders.
There's one left, I informed Norian as I toed a head toward a body. The body belonged to an enemy—I wouldn't have treated any of Norian's people that way. The floors beneath out feet were slick with blood, gore and vampire ash. Wizard blasts had knocked out an entire wall—the one surrounding the windows. The wizards had died too. I made a mental note to contact Erland—just to see if any of them were on Wylend's list of wanted warlocks.
Where? Norian's question filtered into my mind.
Rafters, I replied. Shapeshifter, I added. What I didn't say after that was that it was also vampire. Amid all the scents inside the room, there was only one that bore the signature of Dark Elemaiya. I figured this was how Black Mist had survived for so long—it was headed by a shapeshifting vampire who could likely mist as well—that's where the Black Mist name had originated. They say that every person has an opposite. I'd found mine. There was a good chance that this one was a King Vampire, a thought I found frightening. And he held le'meruh—something I didn't have.
What are you going to do, Lissa Beth? Norian signed off on an assistant's comp-vid.
"Nori, I want to wash my hands. Do you think there's a bathroom here somewhere?" I spoke aloud. Norian would know what I was about.
"Has to be. Try downstairs." Norian nodded toward the fire escape stairway.
"I'll be back," I said and walked through the door.
* * *
Cheedas smacked a bowl of popcorn down in front of Drake and Drew. "My little girl off doing things like that? You should not be enjoying this," Cheedas muttered, moving things around on the island while Drake, Drew, Gavin, Tony and nearly all of Lissa's mates watched the news-vid from Mazareal. A reporter was standing in front of a burned-out building, saying it was the former headquarters for Black Mist and Solar Red. Images of bagged bodies being hauled from a building across the street were shown in an inset.
"Rumor has it that at least sixty ASD agents were killed while taking down the enemy," the female reporter continued.
"Just like always—exaggerate and then apologize later," Tony tossed a popcorn kernel toward the screen.
"You'd know about that," Drake nodded to the former Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department.
"They'll have to apologize quickly, Mazareal is dying." Karzac sat down heavily to watch the vid. "Have we seen anything of Lissa yet?"
"Not yet," Gavin muttered. He was angry. Garde was also angry, as evidenced by the curls of smoke drifting from his nostrils.
"Wait, look!" Rigo had caught sight of something. All of them focused where Rigo's finger pointed.
* * *
My advantage over my opponent was that I could see him while he was mist, but he couldn't see me. Not while he was still a falcon, anyway. It was genius, actually. Who might suspect a bird sitting in the rafters of assassination sites from one end of the universes to the other? Even if anyone had seen the bird, they'd have thought nothing of it, more than likely. Now, all I had to do was decide what to do with my quarry when I grabbed him and he turned back to vampire and started fighting.
Mist always works. It had never failed me—not even once. When I gathered our homicidal falcon into my mist, he was held there in a sort of stasis, just as anyone else would be. Oh, he could still see and experience emotions—fear being the most important one—but he couldn't act on that fear until I let him go again. A power bubble is what I formed on the streets of The Meadows, the poverty-stricken portion of a city that could no longer boast a sandwich cart outside Black Mist headquarters. The founder of Black Mist was left a prisoner inside the power bubble while I misted through its edges, coming back to myself just outside its perimeter.
The falcon turned, just as I imagined he might, hitting the inner wall of the bubble with vampiric force. The bubble held. He was shouting at
me while I stared at him, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. Norian and Lendill came to flank me.
"Who do we have here?" Norian asked.
"Unless I miss my guess, he's the one who created Black Mist," I replied casually. Our prisoner, whose hearing was just as sharp as any vampire's, heard clearly.
"I'll kill you!" he shouted. "You have no cage, no cell, no dungeon that can hold me!" He pounded again on the wall of the bubble. Well, at least the bubble was holding him. For the moment.
"What's your name?" I asked. Well, we still didn't know that. Did we?
"I won't tell you, you fucking bitch. I'll kill you. I'll shred your skin and feed your blood to dogs!"
"He looks like a teenager," Lendill muttered.
"Oh, he's older than that," I said. "Around thirty-six hundred, unless I miss my guess." I saw the media trying to get close to us, their cameras trained in our direction, but Norian's people and the local constabulary were holding them back. It didn't keep zoom lenses from invading the space, however, or spy-mics from hearing everything that was said. Norian might have to confiscate those recordings later, but this was likely going out live to the Alliance.
"What made you create Black Mist?" Norian asked. "I have to admit, it was a work of genius. I've never met anyone who could even come close to this." Norian was playing on this guy's vanity.
"I am powerful," the vampire said instead. "You have no idea what you're fucking with, here."
I had an answer ready for that, but Norian gripped my wrist in his hand. I held my words back. "After all," Norian continued, "we've been chasing you for a very long time. You've stayed out of reach every time. Offered us false trails, phony leads and bogus information. I was beginning to think you might be a god or something, you'd become so powerful. Every Alliance citizen lives in fear of Black Mist. No King, Queen, Governor or politician feels safe if you target them. Honestly, that's quite a resume you've built for yourself. Still don't want to tell us your name?"
The vampire continued to ignore Norian. Instead, he came to stand right in front of me, pressing his nose against the inside wall of the bubble. "I will drink you dry," he hissed. "When I escape, and I assure you that I will, I will make your final moments terrifying and painful. You will wish you'd never heard of me, little pretender. You think you're a Queen Vampire? My sire told me they were weak. That any male could make them do their bidding, just by giving them sex with the bite."
"You fucked up, short-sighted, pea-brained, tiny-dicked, poor excuse for a worm," I pressed my nose against the opposite side of the bubble. "If I wanted to kill you swiftly, I would have done it already. Who do you think is holding this bubble around you, shit for brains? If I want to know your name, all I have to do is pull it out of your head, Viregruz," I snapped. "You think I can't smell Dark Elemaiya from a mile away, you pathetic moron?"
Viregruz's head snapped back when I said his name. It didn't mean anything to Norian, but then the ASD didn't have any information at all on Black Mist's founder.
"Go ahead," Viregruz taunted, turning his back on us. "Lock me up. See how long you can keep me. I promise to kill all of you slowly, very soon."
"Gee, that's too bad," I retorted. "Too bad you'll never get the chance." Viregruz's back was still turned to us. Too bad he didn't see the first fingers of sunlight reaching through The Meadows as a result.
* * *
Karzac was the only one still eating popcorn while watching the vampire who created Black Mist fry on live Alliance television. Viregruz's shrieks could be heard clearly as he screamed and fell, his skin blackening and melting in the early morning light on Mazareal. Gavin, Tony, Rigo, Aryn and Roff all stared in horror as they watched a vampire die in sunlight.
* * *
"Lissa Beth, tell me you didn't know how close the dawn was," Norian hissed as he gripped my arm and hauled me toward a waiting hovercar.
"Norian, there are two things every vampire knows," I said, trotting alongside him and then climbing into the vehicle ahead of him. Norian shut the door and barked for the driver to take us away. "One," I continued, "is that we will always know when night falls." I settled myself against the padded seat, attempting to get comfortable after an extremely long night. "The other thing," I added, "is that unless it is blocked with power somehow, a vampire will always know when dawn approaches." I'd answered Norian's second, unvoiced question with my first answer. He'd wanted to question Viregruz. I wanted him dead. Norian might have thought the ASD could keep the Black Mist creator locked up—I knew better.
Viregruz could mist through walls, just as I could. His mistake had been in never trying. If I hadn't created the bubble out of the power I now held as Kifirin's equal, I wouldn't have been able to hold him, either. Viregruz wanted to stay to watch what we did and identify targets for the new army of Black Mist assassins he intended to build. I'd fooled him temporarily and grabbed him unaware. I'd also blocked his senses with my shield and he hadn't suspected that dawn was so close. His death in the sun was final and irrevocable. The entire Alliance, more than likely, had just watched him die via live news-vids.
* * *
Norian hasn't spoken to me for six months. I feel a tiny hole in my heart as a result. Even if I'd told him what I knew about Viregruz, he wouldn't have listened. It will take time for Norian to come back to me, but he will. Even now, I watch him when he comes to dinner. He watches me when he thinks I don't know.
The other thing that happened after Black Mist and Solar Red died is this—one spring day, when the weather was warm and the comesuli farmers were out planting their early crops, Poradina went into labor. I felt inadequate, somehow; another woman was experiencing pain for me, so I might have a child. Five hours later, Rylend Davan Morphis came into the world, shaking his tiny fists and crying out his displeasure to the world.
Six days later, Evaline's labor commenced and Torevik Rolfe Rath joined my growing family. I often wept when I held my babies, even as Erland and Garde looked on. This is a gift beyond price for me, and they are growing so quickly. Shadow arrived a day after Tory's birth, going to his knees before me while I fed Ry by bottle.
"Lissa, tell me you will do what you said before—that we can have a child together like this." His dark head rested against my knee. I reached out and touched his face.
"Shadow," I brushed black hair away from his forehead, "I will gladly have a child with you. I've asked the Larentii. The Wise Ones have seen our daughter already, my love."
* * *
"I have something for you."
Nefrigar, Chief of the Larentii Archivists, hid his surprise. Only a handful might approach the Larentii homeworld who weren't Larentii. The planet was heavily shielded and protected against invasion by other races. Only a handful of non-Larentii knew its location. Nefrigar, standing at a cubicle table inside the Larentii Archives, had been poring over newly acquired records from a long-dead world. The ancient Larentii Archivist blinked at his unexpected visitor.
"Ah, I should have known," Nefrigar smiled as recognition dawned. "Welcome to the Larentii Archives, Mighty Hand." Nefrigar bowed respectfully.
"I've brought copies of Lissa's diaries," The Mighty Hand offered a box of records to Nefrigar. "I've added to them somewhat—a few paragraphs here and there, just to explain what was going on with others around her and to complete the history."
"We do not mind that here," Nefrigar nodded. "Information is welcome in every form."
"That's why I've brought it to you—she has considered destroying these at one time or another. Much of the story is painful to her."
"I understand that; Connegar and Reemagar have supplied parts of her history already. It is a sad tale, at times."
"Yes, it is certainly that," The Mighty Hand agreed. "I will bring you more in the future, on one who is not yet born." He smiled at Nefrigar and disappeared.
Epilogue
"No, I already have enough warlocks on my payroll, although I appreciate the offer," Arvil San Gerxon held back a gri
mace as he gazed at Zellar. The left side of the warlock's face was severely burned, leaving one eye closed forever. It was a wound received during Zellar's escape from Mazareal, Arvil realized.
Arvil could have used another warlock, but Zellar was actively hunted by the ASD for his association with Black Mist. Arvil didn't need that target painted on his own back. "I have what I need with these," Arvil jerked his head toward the eight shapeshifters Zellar had offered the gambling magnate and crime kingpin from Campiaa. "But I hear Cloudsong is looking to hire." Farzi and his brothers stood helplessly by as money changed hands.
The End
* * * * * *
Lissa's story, as well as that of Toff and Lissa's children, will continue in
Blood Reunion (Blood Destiny #10)
* * * * *
About the author:
Connie Suttle lives in Oklahoma with her patient, long-suffering husband and three cats. The cats are not so long-suffering and are far from patient.
* * * * *
For information on upcoming titles, please visit Connie's website at www.subtledemon.com, her blog at subtledemon.blogspot.com or find her on her Facebook page—Connie Suttle Author. She is also on twitter: @subtledemon.
Blood Redemption (Blood Destiny #9) Page 25
