by LW Herndon
Sol continued to stare at me from beneath a set of well-groomed but bushy brows, a sharp contrast to his bald pate. I wasn’t sure what was running through his mind, but I was certain any offer of friendship he might extend to me probably resembled eating broken glass or something equally palatable.
“So what are you?” Jez seemed fixated on the minutiae of our origins. Whatever skills Sol had transferred to her definitely didn’t include civility.
“Does it matter? I’ve been enlisted to help you. Several of you, though it’s hard to find pre-immortals alive these days.” I waited for the next barrage of questions.
“Who asked you to?” Sol perked up. His voice bore a strange timbre of menace and compulsion in an attempt to manipulate me, but parlor tricks weren’t going to work. Not that it stopped him from trying. I could feel the push of his power. However, I wouldn’t have made a good foot soldier for Shalim if I submitted to every push thrown my way.
“I did.” Decibel gave up her confrontational stance to sit on the couch. One leg sensually crossed over the other as her fingers folded in a demure fashion.
Jez looked back and forth between the two of us and Sol. He blinked and shook his head, looking like he needed a stiff drink. “Since when does a demon solicit help to save…humans?”
“Since the immortals are terminated before they can evolve.” Decibel’s clipped answer, short and terse, didn’t promise more information.
Sol focused on Decibel. “Why would you give a damn?”
“My own business.”
Jez turned to me in disbelief. “She really got you involved?”
“Yep.”
She turned back to Dec. “Why him?”
I pointedly let out an audible exhale and checked my watch since the exchange was turning into a bad rendition of a C-rated police interrogation.
Dec shrugged. “He has a reputation for protective acts.”
Jez turned back to me. “And you said yes because—”
“Because she asked so nicely.” My tone was snide enough to make Decibel pop back up to pace in her confines, resembling every bit the caged animal waiting to pounce.
I took pity on her. For whatever reason, she’d twisted herself in knots to help this group. She didn’t deserve their contempt. I, on the other hand, didn’t care what they thought. “Demons were being summoned, coerced, and destroyed against their will. I believe, in connection with this operation. I have a stake in protecting my clan. The joint resources make collaboration efficient.” I shot Dec a glance to keep silent and was surprised when she looked away without provocation.
“So it’s about saving demon hide. No big surprise,” said Sol.
His quick snark made me wonder briefly just what chance humanity really had in the great judgment with immortals so jaded. In spite of his bitterness, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if he wasn’t ready just yet with his own olive branch. “From a purely objective standpoint, threats of your extermination have only escalated recently.”
“Murders of immortals have happened for years,” Sol snapped back.
“In these numbers and with this level of focus?” I pushed back with a rise in tone to reflect my impatience. He blinked and considered my question for a second.
“The older attacks were from possessed humans, but those perpetrators were premeditated living beings.” I glanced at Jez. “My last encounters have been with acolytes, fledgling sorcerers, and a few scouts or soulless human vessels.”
“What’s the connection to your precious clans?” Sol’s calmer question didn’t bother avoiding insult.
“I’ve tracked the disappearance of clan members to sites of the Consortium’s activities. I can’t speak to the correlation, but I don’t do coincidences.” I could feel the heated blaze of Decibel’s stare between my shoulder blades. I didn’t have to see her face to detect her anger at my withholding information. Then again, she hadn’t asked. In my book, I withheld Shalim’s business until disclosure was necessary. Given the quorum in the room, I decided the potential for gaining more information was now worth offering a few details.
Not willing to burn a bridge, I walked over to stand beside Decibel. My physical proximity as support didn’t cut it. She refused to look at me.
Sol’s eyes narrowed. “Your take on the change?”
“Maybe the humans recruited weren’t manageable. They proved more of a liability, more exposure for human law enforcement. Or they weren’t getting the job done.” I hesitated on my final conjecture, the most solid and troubling option. “Or the focus has changed, and someone’s timetable has escalated.”
Jez cringed and turned her back. Sol sank into a chair at the rug’s outer edge. I sat on the arm of the couch and watched the mix. Murder was troublesome, soulless vessels and blood rituals more so. Adding in what or who would have the wherewithal to play the demon element into the equation pointed to bad conclusions of someone with infinite time and enormous power. I didn’t have enough pieces to pull together an answer.
Jez moved closer to the couch, leaving Sol between herself and Decibel. “What benefit is there from harnessing demons?”
Decibel straightened her posture. Her brows gave a quick lift and settled while she considered. “We don’t act as a cohesive group. We are subordinate only to our clans, with geographically dispersed territories. No one chain of command to piss off. While some clan leaders are incredibly powerful, most don’t have the desire to play full-time in the human realm, with all but the most ancient restricted by daylight.” Decibel glanced at me. “Most, at any rate.”
“But singular attacks on demons warrant a response. They won’t go unchallenged. Reciprocation is a given. The summons could be practice runs,” I added last.
Sol looked up, for once taken off guard. “In an effort to pick off demon leaders?”
“Demon and immortal,” Decibel added. “The two factions with longevity and power. Disturbing both lines could hardly be a coincidence.”
Sol glared at Decibel as if she’d sprouted horns, but I got the general impression that her hypothesis hadn’t occurred to him. Visualizing the immortals as a singular target worked much better in his book, hate easier to funnel and direct if you’re the only victim. A response from someone left too long isolated in battle.
Jez looked at me. Suspicion flickered across her features, but she reined it in. “How are they able to summon random demons?”
“They aren’t random. The summons target clans of great power but ensnare those least violent and invasive, from a humanity standpoint—the weakest members.”
Everyone looked my way. “Give her the folder.” I gestured to Decibel, who picked up the packet we’d sifted through earlier at the diner. Details Decibel had uncovered of demon disappearances from several of the key clans that surrounded Shalim’s continental holdings. Moderate clans had seen the most activity, ones more likely to retreat from human altercations, ones least likely to collude with the violent sects. Details no computer or human service could provide.
She started to get up to hand it to Jez but stopped as she realized she couldn’t move out of the ward Sol had created.
Jez looked to me expecting help, but I only shrugged. “It’s her information. You want to get in front of this situation, then we all need to contract for a détente.”
“She’s a demon and so are you,” said Sol, his itsy-bitsy measure of patience gone.
“Repetitious, Sol,” I said. “If Decibel were sent to take out Jez, she would have done it. Jez would be ashes now.”
Again the burn of Decibel’s gaze brushed over me for the revelation of her name, but I stayed locked on Jez’s gaze and nodded at the folder still in Decibel’s hand.
Sol eyed the gun I’d set down. I moved back to slide it across the floor to him. “It’s empty, but if it makes you feel better.”
With a blink and a quick breath as if she’d plunged into ice water, Jez stepped over the rug’s edge to Decibel before Sol had time to
argue. I gave her a point for courage. My demon cohort relinquished the file and sat back down, while Jez sifted through the papers and returned to Sol.
“I haven’t detected demons at the last several murder sites,” I added.
“Too much strength required for the summons?” Sol looked at me but waited.
“We’d be talking an incredibly powerful sorcerer. More likely this is an orchestration of several high-level sorcerers pooling their power and that of their fledglings.”
Sol closed his eyes. He looked visibly older and shrunken. Jez looked stunned. “You’re joking.”
I put my elbows on my knees and leaned forward with a side glance at Decibel. She pursed her mouth in potential agreement. “Nope. I think it’s possible. Very, very bad. But possible.”
“Why would they do this?”
I opened my hands. “You both could conjecture better why they don’t want immortals to evolve. When did you notice the attacks beginning?” I glanced down at my watch again. Two hours until the hospital shifts changed. Again, no offer of information from Team Immortal. I had too much to do to fuss with people who didn’t want to help themselves.
After grabbing a towel and varnish remover from my project pile, I returned to swab at the markings beneath my rug. Sol postured to move, but I gave him an unpleasant look. I was damn tired of dancing with him. “Play nice or you leave now.”
“Works for me,” responded Sol.
Finally free of her confines, Decibel walked behind the kitchen counter as I moved to Sol’s side. Jez had sidled away with my approach.
I squatted beside his chair, my hands lax on my knees, but ready, and leaned close. I kept my conversation between us while I monitored the concerned looks on Jez’s and Decibel’s faces. “It might work for you, but will it work for your daughter? I can smell what’s happening to you, Marguessa. Try diplomacy, for her sake. You have nothing to lose.”
His eyes widened in surprise, but he made no comment.
“Any information at all?” I tried again.
He glanced away. I stood up, disgusted, grabbed my jacket, and then headed for the elevator without a backward glance. “I’m more than willing to work with you both in order to figure this out. I’m not willing to waste time persuading people about trust. In or out, you choose.”
“Thaddeus Kane.” Sol’s voice rang out across the room, stronger than I would have expected. “The increase in killings—they began twenty-eight years ago.”
That brought me up short, but I didn’t turn around. The fact that the rise coincided with the year of my birth wasn’t something I had an answer for. Another non-coincidence. A long series of them riddled my life, but now I had another item to add to my long list of questions.
I pulled the grill across the elevator, punched the button, and glanced at each one through the grill openings. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone. See if you can come up with a plan.”
The embroiled anger on Decibel’s face at my departure was righteously funny and almost matched the indignation on Jez’s face. They would make a good pair.
But Sol, yeah, he was a tough nut. He said nothing. Arms crossed, he watched me disappear from sight with a quizzical expression. It beat anger and contempt.
Here’s hoping I had a loft to come back to once those three came to a resolution.
***
I’d left my building around three and arrived at Shalim’s courtyard half an hour later. I had racked up questions, and only a few beings I knew were old enough to have some answers. Only one would let me challenge him for the information.
The other found me on my way to the underground mazes.
“Human.”
With an internal grimace, I paused at the call. I had many names in Shalim’s clan, none of them my own.
“Is Chaz with you?” Fists on his hips, Abraxas glared down at me. Eight feet tall, gold skinned with black sigils, and a swirl of bones, which rose from the skin behind his cheekbones toward the back of his head and combined into an elaborate arc and deadly point. An imposing demon, even without the thick, corded muscles on his arms, chest, and thighs. He was ancient, as well, with a speed matched only by Shalim’s.
Abraxas’ strength and fighting skills were in a league like no other I’d encountered. He also commanded Shalim’s warriors and, to a lesser degree, was my next boss. Given my low status on the totem pole, everyone considered themselves my boss. I acknowledged only three.
“Not since roughly thirty-six hours ago. We confirmed a sorcerer kill, tracked the scout, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“No other sightings?”
“One acolyte destroyed, but no leads for the clan.”
Abraxas grumbled, and long fangs extended from between his lips. It was as close to “well done” as I ever got. He spun a half turn then stopped. “Has he fed?”
Hmm, tricky question. “He showed signs after we found the scout.”
A quick clench of claw reflected the commander’s concern. The same concern I carried for Chaz. Feeding routines, for demons that feed on sexual behavior, typically run in standard cycles, negating bouts of high activity and injury. Because I partnered on missions with Chaz, had for most of my twelve years in the clan, I was fairly familiar with his cycles. So was the commander. But Chaz’s cycles were growing shorter. He posed no harm to anyone, or himself, that I could detect, but I didn’t like unexplained change.
Evidently, neither did Abraxas.
“Tell the fledgling I wish to see him.”
I had no chance to respond before he disappeared. While I don’t consider an entity three hundred years old a fledgling, Abraxas is closer to seven thousand, so his point of reference for Chaz differs from mine.
I passed through the main courtyard’s side mazes, then veered to the lower depths of Shalim’s main compound. The holdings actually spanned hundreds of miles. Segments were allocated to various divisions within the clan hierarchy.
I followed a long, steep passage down. The darkness occasionally receded. Pockets of natural crystals reacted to my movement and illuminated my way. Soft glowing iced pink and yellow lit the path from all sides. The trail finally ended at a small cavern, a shallow phosphorous pool of water the only obvious feature.
The first time, I’d stumbled into the pool. The fluid had sucked me down, and I’d been certain I would drown.
I walked to the center, held back a flinch in expectation of the bone-numbing chill, and waited. Air swirled around me, spinning and lifting the water into micro-fine mist. With a sharp crack, the spin stopped. The ceiling of the cave receded, and the walls expanded. Endless rows of shelving replaced rock and water. Books and scrolls, stuffed in every nook and cranny from floor to ceiling, extended for shelf upon shelf beyond my view. My first visit, I’d landed in this exact spot, sprawled between stacks of tomes and baskets of scrolls filled with words I could neither read nor speak.
Flaming torches held in heavy iron stands reflected glints of gold and silver off the polished-leather bindings. The demon scribe hovered, suspended in air between two aisles of shelving. An intermittent crinkle of paper signaled his deep absorption.
I waited respectfully for his acknowledgement.
Naberius was as dangerous as any of Shalim’s warrior demons, perhaps more so. With a regal bearing and a smooth exoskeleton of bone that comprised most of his face, he was a thing of grace and nightmares. His choice of dress—voluminous folds of floor-length black robes. Both form and dress distracted the eye from his lithe movements and his deadly, hidden armament. He didn’t need the weapons secured beneath the robes. However, he’d always seemed to find them amusing and collected them the way some people did flashy jewelry.
His role in the clan as ancient scribe and scholar, in a life where information was power, enabled the power of Shalim’s rule to exceed that of many larger and more ancient demon clans.
No small feat.
I’d stumbled into Naberius’s lair within six months of my appearance in S
halim’s courtyard, my reading and writing skills nonexistent. Yet Naberius had amused himself with my instruction. He cut my scholarly teeth on tales of the destruction of the library of Alexandria and the betrayal of Atlantis. Not until years later did I learn these texts had long been lost to civilization.
My training was a challenge for him and a sheer hell for me. He had worked me hard, made me copy and translate ancient texts, and forced me to stumble along reading aloud to him from newer ones. His purpose in so much effort has never been clear to me, but I now read and write and carry trivial bits of history in my mind that humans have long since forgotten. More importantly, I can blend into most societies to serve the clan.
Abraxas and his warriors pummeled and honed my external façade. Naberius fine-tuned my mind. Each skill provided better service to Shalim. Perhaps that was all there was to it. But nothing is as it seems with demons and their purposes.
“Child, what brings you here?”
Naberius held the position as one of Shalim’s most prized subjects. He’d never told me his age. I’d never asked, though I suspected he might be older than Shalim. A demon shy of ten thousand years would retain more knowledge than this entire library. Given my limited twenty-eight years, I was glad he considered me a child and not just a single-cell amoeba beneath his notice.
“Sire.” I gave Naberius the same bow of respect I spared only for Shalim. “I have come with questions. And for your conjecture.”
The demon’s eyes lit with a crystal green gleam, a sign of his delight. “Ah, you tease me, child. Proceed.”
How to start? I needed to adhere to Shalim’s “clan first” dictates and still pull details for the larger picture.
“In tracking the disappearance of our two warriors, I’ve run across a connection with immortals.”
Naberius tilted his head and assessed me. His eyes drifted from shades of emerald to shards of ice and back. The effect caused minor explosions of color within his eyes and made for an uncomfortable appraisal. One I usually passed.
