by Mac Flynn
"If she can curse why can't she un-curse me?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "Unfortunately, her magic ebbs and flows. The inconsistency means she can't cure herself, but on occasion she is able to harness enough strength to cast powerful curses."
I frowned. "So what did she do to me? What was that thing Simon scared off?"
Basileus closed his eyes and turned his face back to the fire. "It was a Death Phantom."
I blinked at him. "A what?"
Basileus's gaze flickered to Simon. "Perhaps it would be better told from you. She is your fledgling."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked to Simon. "Why do you need to tell me?"
Simon pursed his lips. "What you witnessed was a Death Phantom. It is a creature summoned to cause death to the one who is cursed."
My blood froze in my veins. "Death? Like permanent death?"
He nodded. "Yes. The creature stabs you in the heart and steals your soul at the point of death. The soul is then given to the one who cursed you."
I whipped my head to Basileus and stabbed a finger at the doorway. "Go tell your witch my soul's still in use!"
He shook his head. "Even if she would awaken it wouldn't be of any use. She doesn't have the focus to revoke the curse. That is-" his eyes flickered to Simon, "-unless she were to be cured. That is one reason why I brought you here, besides your inexcusable transgressions."
Simon's eyebrows crashed down. "Where is the cure?"
Basileus pursed his lips and turned his face back to the fire. "Trica has it."
Simon moved so fast I could barely follow. One minute he stood beside the couch, the next he had his hand wrapped around Basileus's throat. The feet of our 'host' swung a foot above the floor. Basileus's hands clutched Simon's iron fist. Horrible choking noises emanated from his restricted throat.
Simon sneered up at his captive. "How could you be foolish enough to allow him to invade your home?"
Basileus frowned. "You of all vampires should know his cunning." Simon frowned, and our host winced as Simon tightened his grip. "He left no trail from that letter. We only learned of his involvement when the next letter arrived with his demand."
Simon arched an eyebrow. "And what is that?"
Basileus met Simon's gaze. "He wishes for access to Curse Chamber." Simon started back so violently that he lost his grip on Basileus. The lord dropped to his knees. He rubbed his neck as he stood and studied Simon. "Now you know why you were brought here in such haste. I couldn't lose a moment."
Simon sneered at Basileus. "You agreed to the blackmail."
I snorted. "You couldn't get your escorts to convince this guy?"
Basileus glared at us. "I had no other choice. Madam Bentley is the only one capable of unsealing that chamber. Without her it could be sealed for decades."
Simon turned away from him and toward Certus and me. "It would be better that it was sealed."
Our host scoffed. "For you, perhaps, but that room is the only threat I hold against the more powerful demons, Trica included. Without that threat the city would devolve into chaos."
Simon shut his eyes and ground his teeth together. "When is the agreement to be fulfilled?"
Basileus pursed his lips. "The demand is scheduled to be met tomorrow night."
Simon opened his eyes and his gaze fell on Certus. "Notify the others that they are needed this night." Certus bowed his head and hurried from the room. Simon turned to Basileus. "Do you know the whereabouts of Trica?"
Basileus shook his head. "No. I'm not even sure if he resides in the city."
Simon glanced at the curtained windows. The pale light showed that nightfall was almost here. His voice was so soft I barely heard the words. "He's still here. He would never leave."
"You have all my resources at your disposal," Basileus offered.
Simon's usual sly smile curled onto his lips. "I have need of only one of your assets."
Basileus nodded. "Anything. Name it and it is yours."
Simon strode over to the couch and half-turned to our host. "Your ship. We must return to the mainland immediately."
Basileus pursed his lips, but bowed his head. "I will inform my captain of the departure." He strode from the room.
I glanced at Simon. His smile was gone again and replaced with a deep frown. "This theft is going to be harder than the others, isn't it?"
He nodded without looking at me. "Much harder."
I stood on my wobbly legs. "And what about this Death guy? Is he gone for good?"
Simon shook his head. "No. The Phantom will continue to appear until the curse is lifted or it succeeds in its assigned task."
My shaking legs couldn't hold me. I fell back onto the couch and ran a hand through my hair. "How often is it going to keep coming back?"
Simon took a seat on the couch and studied my face. "The Phantom will come when it believes you are at your weakest."
I managed a snort. "Then it should be here any time now. I just hope it doesn't scare any of the staff."
"The Phantom will not be seen by the weak-minded," he told me.
I arched an eyebrow. The corners of my lips twitched up. "So how were you able to see it?"
A bitter smile slipped onto his lips. "Death is an old acquaintance of mine, and his messengers are also familiar to me."
I leaned back and studied him. "You can. . .you can stop death?"
He shook his head. "Nothing so powerful, but his messengers know I do not like for them to take what is mine."
I clasped my hands together and stared down at my lap. The thought of death brought tears to my eyes. I sniffled, but managed a smile. "All this time I was worrying about becoming a vampire. Now it looks like I might not get even that chance."
Simon clasped my chin between his fingers and lifted my gaze to his face. "You will not be taken by Death. He has no right to you."
I choked out a sob mixed with a laugh. "I don't think he's going to care much what you think. Not if that Phantom-" My words caught in my throat. Behind Simon beside the mantel stood the cloaked figure.
Simon leapt to his feet and spun around so he stood between the Phantom and me. His red eyes narrowed, but their light glowed brightly in the dimming light. The Phantom's cloak hardly rustled as it floated a few feet closer to us and stopped. The skeletal hand revealed the dagger, and it pressed the blade against its chest.
Its hissing voice was as icy as the chill that ran up my spine. "Give her to me."
"She is not yours to take," Simon argued.
The thing raised its head. Within the depths of the hood I glimpsed a pair of white lights. Their attention fell on me. "She has the mark. She must die."
Simon whipped out something bright and glistening from inside his coat and threw it at the creature. The Phantom screamed and melted into the air. The object struck the wall behind where it stood and stuck there. I saw it was a long-handled dagger. The blade sunk clear into the wall.
Certus and Basileus rushed into the room. Our host looked from me to Simon. "What has happened?"
Simon strode over to the wall beside the mantel and pulled the dagger from its resting spot. The blade glistened like silver. He tucked the weapon back into his coat and turned to all of us.
Simon's eyes fell on Basileus. "Is the boat prepared?"
Our host nodded. "Yes, but I demand to know-"
"And have the others been notified?" Simon asked his manservant.
Certus bowed his head. "They are to meet us at the penthouse."
Simon strode over to me and offered me his hand. "Then let us leave this poorly-hosted event."
I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. We turned to the open doors. Certus stepped aside, but Basileus stepped in our way.
"I feel I must mention that should you be caught by Trica I will disavow any knowledge of your attempted-theft," he warned us.
I snorted. "So this is Mission Impossible?"
Basileus bowed his head and stepped aside. "Precisely.
"
Simon walked toward the door, but paused beside our host to turn his head to him. "Prepare what you can to revoke Faith's curse. We will return before the night is over."
And with that we left.
CHAPTER 4
We boarded the boat and watched the island recede into the distance from the deck. Night had fallen and enveloped the twinkling city in its cool blanket. There was a calm silence except for the occasional echoing roar from the engines.
I grasped the railing and glanced up at Simon who stood beside me. "Do you really have a plan to steal the antidote from this Trifecta guy?"
Simon's gaze lay on the open waters between us and the mainland. He pursed his lips. "His name is Trica, and I cannot be sure how to approach this challenge without at least knowing where he is hidden."
I leaned my arms over the railing and studied Simon's tense face. "So who is this guy? Basileus sounded like he was terrified of him."
Simon pursed his lips as he gazed out over the water. "He is a very old and very powerful vampire. His influence reaches deep into the underworld of the city, back to the very foundations of the first organized crime one hundred years ago."
I arched an eyebrow. "So how come you haven't mentioned him before? He sounds like a challenge to steal from."
Simon closed his eyes and shook his head. "There is nothing I want from him that can be stolen."
I frowned. "So how tough is this going to be exactly? Should I throw myself into the arms of the Phantom right now?"
"Where there is life, even un-life, there is hope," he philosophized.
My eyes wandered down to his coat. I nodded at the breast. "What was it you threw at that Phantom, anyway? A dagger?"
He reached into his coat and pulled out the dagger. Its long, silver blade shone against the clear night sky. He held the blade of the dagger out to me. "See for yourself."
I reached for the weapon. My fingers brushed against the blade. I felt a sharp, biting heat. I yelped and drew back my hand. My finger was singed.
I glared at him. "You knew that would happen, didn't you?"
That stupid sly smile of his reappeared. I would have been relieved if I hadn't been the butt of the joke. "It is a lesson in your emerging weaknesses. Silver is dangerous to our kind, as is the wood of the hawthorn bush and tree."
I rubbed my aching finger. "Can't you just warn me like a sane person?"
He chuckled as he tucked the blade back into his coat. "I doubt I would have existed this long if I had been sane. Those who are sane lack imagination."
I rolled my eyes. "So silver works against death? And what was that thing saying about a mark on me?"
Simon lifted the blade and studied the sharp, reflective surface. "Silver blades, and knives in general, are protections against both the natural and unnatural worlds. The blade cuts intruders and wards them off so, like a wild animal, they stalk other prey."
"And the mark?" I persisted.
Simon's gaze traveled down to my neck. His eyes hardened. "Death is attempting to supersede my claim on you."
I frowned and reached up. My fingers brushed against the small marks from his bite, but they also touched on something over the marks. It felt like a rough sticker was attached to my skin. I tried to twist my head to look at the mark, but my head was still attached to my neck.
Simon held the blade so the length faced toward me. "Look through this."
I turned my head so I could view my neck. There, draped over the two puncture marks like a thick tattoo, lay a small picture of a dagger. I winced and my eyes flickered up to Simon. "What's it mean exactly?"
He pulled the weapon away and tucked it into his coat. "It means Death's messengers intend to cut your soul from this life."
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. "Can't Death be depicted by a fluffy bunny or kitten?"
Simon studied me for a moment. "Are you cold?"
I shrugged. "I guess. Why?"
He pulled off his coat and draped the heavy garment over my shoulders. His slight body warmth still lingered in the interior, and the thick cloth gathered my own body heat around me.
I gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks. I guess all this talk of death is giving me the chills."
He shook his head. "No. The chill is merely a warning that Death's messengers approach."
My heart dropped into my stomach. The chill inside me strengthened until I had trouble keeping my body from shaking. "Please tell me there's a way to keep them away for longer than ten minutes."
He nodded. "Opposing spells will keep them at bay. The penthouse has several. Otherwise,-" he drew the dagger from the coat I wore, "-this and awareness of your senses must suffice."
I half-turned toward the cabin. Certus stood against the wall some thirty feet from us. "If this thing's so dangerous than why aren't we inside?"
Simon shook his head. "The close quarters would give the advantage to their incorporeal forms."
I shivered and returned my attention to him. "So what am I supposed to be sensing for? Besides the cold, that is."
His eyes wandered down to my neck. "The mark should feel warm to the touch, and if a breeze was to be blowing it would still. The sounds of animals would also cease, as they, too, can sense the messenger approach."
I closed my eyes and listened. The gentle breeze off the waves calmed. I reached up and pressed my hand against my neck. The mark was warm to the touch.
"It's coming," I whispered.
"It is here," he replied.
I opened my eyes and looked out on the waters of the bay. Above the waves some ten feet in front of us hovered the black-cloaked fiend. Its white, glowing eyes glared at us. The dagger was already out and against its chest.
"Give her to me," it hissed.
Simon pulled me back and crossed his own dagger over his chest like the messenger. "I will not."
The fiend's eyes fell on the dagger. It gave off a deep, hollow chuckle. "You will lose this battle, Simon Cruor."
"But not the war," he quipped.
I noticed the creature's eyes flickered to its right. I turned my head just as a second cloaked figure flew out from beneath the deck and lunged at me with a dagger. The first Phantom also attacked, distracting Simon. A figure came from behind me and threw themselves into the path of the dagger.
It was Certus.
I screamed as the weapon sank deep into his chest. Certus pulled out his own silver dagger from his prim coat and swiped at the Phantom. The blade cut across the throat of the cloaked figure. A terrible, gurgling scream emanated from the unearthly creature. It flew back, its skeletal hands clawing at its open throat. White light spilled out instead of blood. The creature dropped backward over the railing and disappeared from sight.
Simon swiped at his target, but the creature flew back out of his reach. It hissed before it melted into the darkness of night. I covered my mouth with my hands as Simon spun around to face Certus.
"Certus!" he yelled.
One of Certus's hands clutched his chest over his heart. He took a step forward, but his legs failed him. He fell to his knees. Large globs of blood dropped onto the deck beneath him.
Simon rushed to his side and knelt beside him. I walked over to his other side. My eyes widened as I beheld the Phantom's knife that still stuck out of his chest.
Certus grabbed the hilt, but Simon grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes. "Do not remove the knife or you will bleed to death."
Certus smiled and shook his head. "It. . .it is of no use, my master. The knife has stabbed my heart. I-" A harsh, bone-wracking coughing fit overtook him. Blood dribbled from his mouth and down his chin, but his smile returned. "It. . .it was a pleasure to serve you, my Master." Simon pursed his lips, but nodded. Certus leaned his head so he faced me. "Forgive my short temper with you, Miss Luvena."
Tears sprang to my eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
Certus bowed his head. "Thank you."
Simon bowed his head. His shoulders shook. Soft, silent tears slid down my cheeks. I took a step forward and reached out for him. "Simon, I-" He stood, and in his arms he held Certus.
I shrank away from the fury in his blood-red eyes. The front of his shirt was covered with Certus's blood. His voice was a soft, terrible whisper. "He will pay. They will all pay for this."
I gulped. "Who will?"
His gaze fell on me. The look softened and he shook his head. "No matter. We will take Certus home and carry on with our plans."
I pursed my lips. "Are you sure-"
"Would you waste his sacrifice?" Simon questioned me.
I turned away and shook my head. "No, but I-" I shut my eyes, but in the darkness the images of Certus's dying moments were replayed. I looked up at Simon. The hot tears left trails beneath my chin. "I don't want the others to die for me. I don't want you to die for me."
Simon studied me for a long moment before he closed his eyes and shook his head. "No one else will die for you tonight." He opened his red eyes and caught my gaze. "You have my word."
My heart sank, but I nodded my head. The job was still on.
CHAPTER 5
The boat reached the docks and we were escorted to the off-loaded car. No one questioned the limp body in Simon's arms, or the blood that covered both of them. It made me wonder if they saw this stuff all too often.
We were driven back to the penthouse building and dropped off at the elevator door. The ride up was long. I stood beside Simon and his precious burden.
My eyes flickered to Certus's body. "Will he disappear when the sun rises?"
Simon shook his head. "His body will not fall to dust unless the sun touches him. Otherwise, the natural rate of decomposition will take its course."
I cringed and looked away. Me and my stupid curiosity.
We reached our floor and stepped out. The doors beyond the lobby were shut, but voices drifted from behind them.
"Humor them as best you can," Simon instructed me. He glanced down at Certus's face. "There are chores I must perform."
