Dark Legion

by Rob Cornell

  The bitterness in his voice pained her. “I’m so sorry.”

  He sniffed, hiked a shoulder. “He knew the risks.”

  “But he deserves better.”

  “We all do, hon. We all do.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  One-thousand voices speak to her all at once in the darkness.

  Jessie can’t separate any of them. Only catch single words and pieces of words from so many different conversations. But she does know they all address her. Vie for her attention.

  She hears her name a lot.

  Sometimes pleading. Often demanding. All of them insistent.

  JessieJessieJessieJessieJessieJessie…

  Whispers and shouts. Cries and moans.

  Their messages all lost in the noise of the others.

  She wants them to shut up. Just shut the fuck up. She can’t listen to them all. Only, in the darkness, she has no voice of her own. Even if she did, they wouldn’t hear her over their own nattering.

  Then one voice rises above the rest. A deep voice. Familiar. It sounds like Craig, only it isn’t Craig. She knows who it is.

  Gabriel.

  Yes. That’s right. But don’t think you know me. Not yet.

  In the darkness, she has no body, but still she feels her heart race, her chest pinch. She wants to shove Gabriel away. There’s nothing to shove. There is only the voices and the darkness.

  Be patient. Soon you will have more power than you ever thought possible.

  Jessie tries to protest. She has only thoughts. Not words. Damn this place for giving everyone a voice but her.

  Gabriel doesn’t need to hear her, though. He responds as if her thoughts equaled words. You are in no position to deny me. I was promised immortality before you were born, daughter.

  She’s not his daughter. The motherfucker. He can’t call her that.

  But you are my daughter. It was my seed that started your life, no matter whose soul occupied my body.

  No. Nononono.

  It’s why you came to me when I called. It’s why you let me in.

  But Jessie doesn’t fall for that. She let more than just him in. And let is not, by any stretch, the word she would use.

  Have you any idea where you are?

  Jessie doesn’t trust the question. Knows better than to answer this monster. Couldn’t answer in this dark world even if she wanted to.

  That doesn’t stop Gabriel from answering for her. You are unconscious. You’ve been taken by a vampire named Yora. She is bringing you to her king to use as bait to draw Craig Lockman to them. They want to kill him because he murdered some of their own. He knows too much. They aren’t ready for the mortals to know they amass.

  What’s more, Yora tasted something different when she sank her teeth into you. She knows you are special, though she isn’t sure how. I don’t think they will kill you. But they will kill the Frankenstein monster you call Craig.

  Jessie tries not to listen. In this place, however, she hasn’t any choice. Behind Gabriel’s voice, the thousand others continue to call out to her. She would take any one of them over Gabriel’s.

  I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Gabriel intrudes. Some of those voices belong to beings who lived millennia ago. Nasty things that could eat your soul if you let them too close.

  She doesn’t care. She refuses to give Gabriel the satisfaction of knowing her fear. But as she thinks this she realizes it’s no use. He knows her fear just as he knows her thoughts. So she turns her mind to something else. The memory of what happened before the darkness. The vampire grabbing her. The whole-body pain from the vampire’s bite. The feel of her life draining away as the vampire sucked in her blood.

  Was it true? Did this vampire have her?

  Open your eyes, Gabriel whispers. And you will find out.

  Jessie gasped as her eyes fluttered open. Pain lanced through her neck and shoulder. She lay on her back, on what felt like a wooden table. Sure enough, above her hung a chandelier. A pair of chains kept her pinned to the table, one across her chest, the other right above her knees. The chain links dug into her painfully.

  A hideous face leaned over her. White scaly skin, wrinkled and twisted like dried putty. Eyes with yellow irises and black veins in the whites. Lips warped, yellowing fangs underneath.

  Jessie screamed.

  The vampire grinned, though his crooked mouth made it look more like a snarl. “Go ahead, dear. Get it out of your system. We don’t mind a little screaming around here.”

  It took every ounce of her will to clamp down her screams. She clenched her teeth so tightly it felt like her jaw might break. She breathed heavily through her nose and glared at the vampire. In her mind she began rattling off movie titles. The Natural. All the President’s Men. Platoon. Cinema Paridiso. Enter the Dragon. Night of the Living Motherfucking Dead.

  Then Gabriel’s voice rose above her own thoughts. That’s right. Do not fear them. These creatures are the gateway to your salvation.

  And my immortality.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  First priority, make Kate safe.

  He considered getting her to a hospital like Marty suggested, but when he found the nearest one and started to pull in, Kate put a hand on the wheel and kept him from turning.

  “I don’t need a hospital.”

  Lockman pulled to the shoulder, turned to Kate. “You sure?”

  “Drop me off at a motel. You have more important things to do than look after me.”

  He tried to swallow, but didn’t have the saliva. This was the second time he’d put Jessie in danger. Only this, unbelievably, was far worse. Maybe even too late to save her. Lockman brushed aside a lock of hair hanging across Kate’s cheek. He slid his knuckles along the edge of her jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t want an apology, Craig. I want you to save our daughter.”

  He dropped her off at a motel not far from the Quarter, pulling away one of the hardest things he had ever done. From there he drove straight to the café.

  The barista recognized him from last time and led him back to the secret door. “Your friends are already waiting inside.”

  Lockman thanked him and stepped into the gravity defying supernatural café. Marty and Teresa sat at a table on the south wall. Lockman stepped up onto the wall as if he’d done it a hundred times and joined them.

  The two of them looked as weary as Lockman felt. They couldn’t afford to be tired, though. “Are you guys with me?”

  Teresa put a hand on his arm. “We’re with you.”

  “All the way,” Marty said, voice raw. The loss of David must have been chewing him apart, but the ogre did a good job of containing his emotions.

  Lockman didn’t feel like he could do the same. His training, his ability to compartmentalize his feelings and focus on the mission, his cool head under pressure—all of it tattered like a flag on a battlefield. Hold it together, or you won’t make it through this.

  “Are you with us?” Teresa asked.

  “The fuck kind of question is that?”

  She gave him a look that reflected every thought he’d just had.

  He sighed. “I’m here.”

  “Then what’s the plan?”

  Marty folded his hands and rested them on the table. “We should wait till daybreak.”

  “By then it’ll be too late,” Craig said. He could hear the panic in his own voice and tried to tamp it down.

  “You want to assault a vampire king’s lair in the middle of the night? You won’t do Jessie any good committing suicide.”

  Teresa tapped her fingers on the table as if on a caffeine high. “Marty’s right. It’s going to be hard enough fighting our way in. We know they have the numbers. And we know they’re going to expect us.”

  “They won’t expect an attack at night. We hit them now, while we have the element of surprise.”

  “The three of us?” Marty raised his eyebrows.

  “We’ll need help,” Teresa said.

  As m
uch as Lockman hated to put it out there after David’s death, they didn’t have many other options. He nodded at Marty. “Your brothers.”

  The ogre’s nostrils flared. The muscles around his jaw bulged. He looked away. “They will help if I ask them.”

  “Will you ask them?”

  Marty returned his attention to Lockman. “I know you don’t believe in the prophecy, but Jessie is nearly as important to me as she is to you.”

  “Right now I’ll believe whatever you tell me as long as it means getting her back.”

  “My brothers and I will help, but you must promise me something.”

  Here it came. More mojo nonsense courtesy of your friendly neighborhood ogre shaman. Lockman waited for it.

  “You’re going to be faced with a choice. Everything outside of you will tell you to choose one way. Everything inside of you will tell you to choose another. You must trust what is inside. That is the right choice.”

  “You got it, Ace.”

  Marty grasped Lockman’s wrist. “I’m serious, brother. Make the right choice or none of us, supernatural or mortal, will stand a chance.”

  Lockman thought about arguing the point. He didn’t want anything to do with Marty’s prophecy junk. But he dropped it. Whatever got Marty and his brothers to help was fine with him.

  “This is war, isn’t it?” Teresa said. “Even if we save Jessie, even if we can kill the king.”

  They all fell silent. Probably all thinking the same thing. Even with Marty’s ogre brothers, the odds were stacked against them high enough to cast a long shadow. It would be hard enough getting to Jessie. But how could they fight a war without an army of their own?

  Sounds from the café filled the silence. The clink of ceramic cups against matching saucers. The buzz of the coffee bean grinder. The chatter of dozens of different breeds of voice from all manner of creature.

  Lockman looked around him at the café’s other patrons. Plenty of different supernaturals. No vamps. Of course, vamps didn’t drink espresso. But how many of these beasts sitting here did? He noticed many of them without cups, just engaged in conversation, or sitting alone in quiet contemplation.

  “How many supernaturals are in New Orleans?”

  Marty followed Lockman’s gaze around the room. “I’ve no idea. This café opens to many places. Not everyone you see here hails from New Orleans.”

  “How many places?”

  “Thousands, I’m sure. From all around the world.”

  Lockman’s heart beat a little faster. “You’re telling me we are sitting in a hub with access to pretty much every thinking supernatural on the planet?”

  “Not all ‘thinking supernaturals,’ as you put it, come here. But a number of the peaceful ones stuck on the mortal plane need somewhere to congregate. They certainly can’t meet up at the local pub.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

  “There aren’t many supernaturals that get along with vamps.”

  “Of course not. Every living thing is prey to a vampire…besides other vampires.”

  Teresa leaned back in her chair, staring in the middle distance. “It’s impossible, Craig.”

  “What is impossible?” Marty asked.

  “It is not impossible.”

  Marty’s eyes flicked from Teresa to Craig, his mouth a straight line. Waiting.

  “How would you organize them?” Teresa asked.

  “With a strong leader. Someone who believes in the cause. Someone,” Lockman turned to Marty, “who has had visions predicting this war.”

  A light dawned in Marty’s face. “Madness.” But a hint of excitement tinged his voice.

  “From here, we can recruit our own army.”

  “Yes,” Marty whispered.

  Teresa raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “My vision during the attack at the flat,” Marty said. “It makes sense now.”

  Lockman didn’t want to ask.

  But Teresa did. “What did you see?”

  “I saw many faces. All together. Faces of all shapes and hues.” He stared wide-eyed at Lockman. “And Jessie at the center of them all.”

  “God damn, why can’t you leave her out of this?”

  “It’s not my doing, Craig. She has been chosen.”

  “Chosen for what?”

  Marty sagged in his chair and stared down at his folded hands as if in prayer. “I don’t know how much more I should tell you. Visions are meant to guide, not determine the future.”

  “Let me do you a favor,” Lockman said. “Keep it to yourself.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can you recruit some of these guys or not?”

  “It will take time.”

  “Then put it on your ‘to do’ list. Teresa’s right. Even with the king down, that doesn’t mean the war’s over. We have to put these vamps back in their place, scatter them so some other ambitious vamp can’t take over as king.”

  Marty nodded. “We wipe out the lair.”

  “Then we move onto the others. Kill as many as we can and send the rest running. No more New Orleans vampire army.” Lockman tapped the table with an index finger. “But first things first. We get Jessie the hell out of there. Because for me, there’s no point in any of this if I can’t get her back. I lose her, the vamps can take over the world for all I care.”

  Teresa looked down at the table and rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. “Jesus, Craig.”

  He knew what she was thinking. He’d lost focus. Was letting his emotions dictate his strategy. Well, damn straight he was. “If you had a daughter,” he said, “you’d understand.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Imps. Blood magic. Guns. Silver bullets. Plots. Conspiracies. Artifacts that can swap your memories and make you a new person. Vampires. Werewolves…

  Kate lay on her back on the motel’s bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, her mind a jumble of impossible realities. She was pretty sure the bed had fleas in the linens, but she was too weary to care. She meditated on all the things she had faced in the last year. She hated it, but like Jessie had said, this was their lot. No turning back. Now she had to learn how to deal with it.

  How did Craig manage to reconcile this world? He always seemed so calm and in control. Even tonight, Jessie in the hands of vampires…

  …werewolves, ghosts…

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to find some clarity in the darkness.

  What should she do?

  The instinct to run away still tugged at her. If Craig could bring Jessie home once more, Kate could take her away, change their names, flee to Mexico.

  Another instinct fought against the first. She loved Craig. Damn if she knew why. His strength? His dedication to Jessie, however cold and hard that could sometimes turn? Or the memory of the man he used to be, back when their lives were normal? Only Craig’s had never been normal. They never talked about his past, never brought up the obvious pain he must feel knowing his body had once belonged to an evil soul. She had always assumed he didn’t want to talk about it. He backed up her assumption by side-stepping the subject whenever they got close to it. Normal conversations, like Kate’s favorite TV show as a kid, or memories of her parents, turned into nerve-racking minefields with him.

  Could she blame him for the steel wall he so often closed around him? Could she blame him for the vampires, werewolves, ghosts…

  She had cursed him for bringing those things into their lives. She had never considered that he had no choice. His life was all about those things. The darker things, he’d once called them, before she even knew what he meant. So if she really loved him, was it fair to hold the darker things against him? He hadn’t made them. In fact, they had, in a way, made him. If she really loved him, she had to accept his world. She had to trust that his secrets and his missions and his choices were all meant to protect them like he claimed.

  If she really loved him…

  And she did.

  Which meant sticking by him. Trustin
g him. Accepting him. Helping him come to terms with his own demons. Being there for him no matter what the cost.

  The idea frightened her as much as it made her feel stronger.

  When this was over, when he brought Jessie back—and she knew right to her core he would, just like he had before—she had to tell him how she felt, that she planned to stand by him no matter what dark things invaded their lives.

  Maybe she could even join the fight.

  She laughed, wiped the tears from her eyes. One step at a time, kiddo. You don’t go from housewife to vampire slayer over night.

  But her acceptance let her relax. He would bring Jessie home. And they would fight whatever came next. Together.

  Vampires. Werewolves. Ghosts. Imps. Blood magic. Guns. Silver bullets. Plots. Conspiracies. Artifacts that can swap your memories and make you a new person.

  None of it would defeat them.

  Knowing that, she finally slept.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  A half-dozen vampires sat at the dining table Jessie was tied to. The super ugly one that had looked down at her when she first woke. Next to him, the vamp bitch that had kidnapped her. The other four almost as ugly as the first. She sensed the ugliest served as ring leader. Could even be the vampire king Craig told her about. The blood in Jessie’s veins had never felt so cold.

  All the vampires looked at her with hungry eyes. Which made sense since she was trussed up on a dinner table like a roast pig. All she needed was the apple in her mouth. That was it, then. They were going to eat her.

  I wouldn’t worry about that.

  Gabriel again. His voice came and went like a song chorus stuck in her head. But unlike in the darkness before, she could think back at him. It’s not you that’s getting eaten, asswipe.

  They aren’t going to feed on you. Trust me.

  She almost laughed. Wouldn’t that freak out the vampires? Dinner gone crazy on them, laughing all the way to her bloody death.