“I just need a few words with your boss,” I told the big, bald one who I had pinned against the wall the last time I’d come here. “You may not believe it right now but you and I are on the same side.”
“What side is that?” he asked, humoring me.
“The side that means you can see the sun for the first time in a century.”
All of the vampires let go of me at the same time, taking a step back. I glanced around, confused, while trying to figure out why that had shocked them so. But then I noticed Edgar George stood by the front door of the club, waving me inside.
I straightened out my coat, flicked up my collar and gave the bouncers the most smug look I could muster. “Sorry, fellas, this one has business to deal with. But if you need to gang up on someone to make yourselves feel tough, there are a couple of small women in the line.”
They all hissed as I passed them by with that remark, but I got out of there fast. Edgar welcomed me with a handshake, but rather than walk me all the way up to his office, he only took me behind the coat counter, where he relieved a teenage girl of her duty and began to exchange tickets for coats.
“I apologize for the informality, Mr. Hannigan, but we’re having a very busy night.” Edgar slipped a coat onto a nearby rail, and then handed over a numbered ticket, watching a drunk couple hurry into the club.
“I get it – business is swarming.”
“Right. But what brings you here?”
I took a deep breath, unsure of how to ask for this. It hadn’t been long since I’d last requested the services of the vampires, only now the circumstances had changed somewhat. “I’m on my way to Firdown Woods. That’s where The Ancient is, and I’m finally going to kill it.”
Edgar furrowed his brow and stood up straight, although he kept his focus on the job at hand. “I see. And you’re doing it with the curse of the moon.”
“How did you–”
“Even if I couldn’t smell it, you’ve made no effort to cover up that bite mark on your neck.” Edgar took a coat and pushed it to one side, before handing over another numbered ticket. “Tell me, do you think it will be enough; a werewolf with an enchanted blade?”
I shook my head, then realized that my hands were shaking, too. I stuffed them into my pockets, desperate to maintain a tough appearance and keep Mr. George on my side. “No, I don’t think it will be enough. Which is why I’ve come here to ask for your help one last time. Now, hear me out…”
Edgar huffed.
“I know you’re busy, and I know you don’t want The Ancient to survive with the knowledge that you attempted to kill it, but we may not fail if we work together. You see, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith, and then the luck comes after.”
The words settled around us, leaving Edgar in contemplation while I silently – anxiously – awaited his response. Although a young, swaying teenager who’d had too much to drink stood waiting for his coat to be taken, Edgar merely stared down at his feet.
“Well?” I urged.
“Is Lena fighting beside you?”
I scratched my neck, feeling a heat brew there. “Not really.”
“You have no help from the werewolves or the alpha?”
“No, not exactly…”
Edgar splayed out his hands in a way that said: There you go, then.
The discomfort of the conversation began to make me fidget. I’d already tried to get Lena on my side, and now Edgar was refusing me for a second time. I wondered how Keira had done it – Cardkeeping seemed like such a lonely job, always fighting to do the right thing while everyone else refused you like a stubborn child.
“That’s it then?” I said. “You’re just going to sit back and let me fail?”
Edgar sighed. “Mr. Hannigan, if the werewolves were fighting with you, I would strongly consider diving in. At least then we would have more chance of taking down The Ancient. But – and this is important, so look at me…”
My eyes came up and met his; blue with a hint of purple.
“The vampires will not be fighting alone with you.”
I shook my head. “I’ve already tried to talk Lena round.”
“But she said no?”
“She said no.”
“Then I’m afraid you’re on your own.”
I suddenly felt it, too. It was like I was in a dark pit, and although I’d hoped I could climb out with the help of some opposing factions, the lid had just been drawn over, leaving me in nothing but dark, deadly silence. I’d never felt so lonely.
“Fine,” I said, heading for the door, this time with my blood boiling. I stopped in the doorway and craned my neck, making sure that Edgar could see the pissed-off look in my eye. “You know, I meant what I said before; you are a coward.”
As much as I expected him to leap across the room in a blur and take me by the throat, Edgar did no such thing. After staring at me like a lost little boy, he snapped out of his entrancement and continued with his job.
“Goodbye, Mr. Hannigan,” he said. “Good luck.”
I left the club without another word, letting insults and laughter from the line of vampires fall off me. Now that I was completely on my own, I began to have doubts about my ability to slay The Ancient. I’d done everything I could to try and make this work; giving the slaughter a test run, enhancing my blade, and even being rejected by the two small armies that refused to fight for their own cause. All I had left now was Link, who I hoped was no longer watching me, just so he couldn’t tell Keira Poe how badly I’d messed up.
“Time to go, buddy,” I said, looking up to the sky. Perhaps I was talking to Link, or it might have been simple encouragement to myself. Now that night had fallen and the Sword of Lucada was ready to be used, there was nothing left to do but head to Firdown Woods for what could be the final fight of my entire life.
Now, my hands were really shaking.
I just hoped I could maintain my courage.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Firdown Woods was a large area of woodland on the outskirts of town. During the day it was a great place for families to go and have picnics or take their dogs out for a hike. The night, however, brought out different kinds of people, namely junkies and young gang members who were only looking for trouble. Tonight, though, they were the least of my worries – I was here for The Ancient, and I wasn’t going to leave until I’d reduced it to a stinking pile of ash.
The curse of the moon set in as I entered the woods. I felt stronger, faster, and I think I was starting to get a handle on the transformation. Now able to see in the dark, I walked carefully between the trees with the Sword of Lucada blaring berotta fire in one hand, while my other hand was a large werewolf claw. With power like this, anyone would think I felt safe. Sadly, I felt more vulnerable than ever.
Leaves rustled above me as I passed under thick branches. I was ready to defend myself against anything that dared to leap out at me, making my way toward the lake in the center of the woods and dreading what I might find.
It wasn’t until an hour later that I came out to a clearing that overlooked the lake. From here I could see everything – my vision was so enhanced from the werewolf bite that the darkness was no longer a problem for me. The moon glistened off the small ripples on the lake, the breeze soft and steady. I stood watching, feeling, letting these new sensations engulf me in total awareness. Even my hearing had improved, pointing out every beat of a bird’s wings, every snap of a fallen twig.
The only thing it didn’t tell me, was that The Ancient lurked behind me.
Its enormous hand bashed into me, those long, knife-like claws scratching my shoulder as it launched my body across the water. I hit the lake with a splash and, the second the cold waters drenched me, The Ancient took a leap and pinned me down. I thrashed around, desperately trying to pierce the tip of my blade into its chest, but it was still far stronger than I was. Together, we sank toward the bottom of the dark lake, my chest feeling tight as I held my breath, doing all I could to stay
alive.
Until I hit the bottom.
My back struck a rock that lay on the bed of the lake, and I let out my breath. Bubbles floated up into the snarling face of The Ancient, popping on its bared teeth as water filled my lungs. I closed my eyes tight, my body pressed against the dirt as the cold water made the hairs on my body prick up. It was all over, Chicago’s newest Cardkeeper had already met his end at the bottom of a quiet lake. There was nothing to be heard but the voice in my head.
Keira’s voice.
“Get up, moron. You’re immortal.”
I crooked my eyebrow.
“You can’t drown, so get up!”
My eyes shot open to find surprise on the face of The Ancient. I stole that moment to bring my knee to my chest, and then I drove my heel into its stomach. The Ancient’s mouth opened as it howled in pain, gargling as the water flooded its throat. It kicked up toward the surface, while I tried for a stronger grip on my sword before taking after it. Quickly gaining speed, it shot up above me and left the lake, but precious seconds ticked by before I could break out into the open air. By the time I did, The Ancient stood on the bank, screeching into the air like a furious witch before running into the darkness.
I swam as fast as I could, racing toward the bank with the sword still in hand. When I got to dry land, I could no longer see The Ancient, but I could hear the thump of its large feet stomping into the dirt ahead of me. I took chase, sprinting faster than I’d ever seen anything move before, until I found it standing in a clearing with its back to me.
“It’s over,” I said, raising the sword to my side and striking an offensive pose.
The creature spun to look at me, but rather than an expression of upset or admitted defeat, its tall, pale body dropped into a stance of its own. Its mouth opened as its dripping body crawled slowly around to its left, grinning like a Cheshire cat until it stopped by the trunk of a huge tree. Slowly, it dug its nails into the bark, scratching it off while its thin lips began to move, mumbling something that sounded like a spell.
This can’t be good.
I made a snap decision to attack. In spite of my fear, I rushed forward, now aware that I actually had a chance of killing this son of a bitch. I screamed at the top of my lungs, blade driven forward as I longed to stick it into the creature’s chest, while I prayed that the berotta fire would make all the difference, hopefully killing it this time.
But I never made it that far.
Two demons dropped from the trees, landing on either side of me and immediately swinging their claws at my throat. I dropped, rolled back and recovered my stance to get a good look at them. They appeared identical, both six feet tall and hideous. Their bodies were made of bark, their limbs covered by swirling vines and hanging leaves. I couldn’t make out their eyes, but they seemed to know my location by movement alone. Unfortunately for me, staying quiet wasn’t my best skill. I would just have to take the tree demons out the old fashioned way – hacking and slashing.
Screaming into the night, I lunged out and swung my sword into the waist of one of the demons. It came apart in an instant, my blade swishing through the darkness in a thin blaze as the demon split in two. The moment it hit the dirt, it became nothing more than bark. I moved quickly on to the second, dodging its silent strike by dropping to my knee, where I sliced off its legs and watched it fall to the ground. I rose then, fast as lightning as I hacked away at the thing, my rapid strikes turning it back into wood chips.
When I was done, I turned back to The Ancient with a big grin on my face.
“That the best you can do?”
The Ancient mumbled again, making fast, tearing motions on the bark once again. More demons began to surround me, dropping from the branches above with each strike of the trunk. By the time The Ancient gave reprieve, there were now nine more demons boxing me in, all awaiting movement from me so they could pinpoint my location.
Slowly, I averted my gaze from The Ancient, raising the sword above my head. I crept carefully, desperate not to make even a slight sound until I was good and ready. When I thought that I was in the best position possible, a fallen branch snapped under my weight.
Now.
I swung my sword like a madman with an axe. The first two tree demons went down quickly, creating a pile of moist bark by my feet. I leapt out toward the third, using its body as a stepping stone while I dropped down on another, then arced the blade back around to finish off the one I’d climbed over. I’d reduced half of them to shards of splintered wood, and as I started to think that I could probably finish them off, I caught movement from the corner of my eye.
The Ancient trembled as it made sounds of stirring, its neck clicking before wings tore out of the skin on its back. Those huge, beastly wings beat hard, brushing the fallen bark across the ground before the creature took off, leaving me with the tree demons.
“No!” I yelled.
There was only one way to stop it, and that was by throwing my sword at it and hoping for the best. But doing so would leave me defenseless against the demons, and somehow, I think The Ancient had planned it. It was a sneaky little bastard.
Still, I had no choice.
I took a run-up and hurled the Sword of Lucada into the night, watching the orange blaze rip through the air toward its target. To my surprise, it struck The Ancient right in the back, and I watched with pleasure as it plummeted toward the ground, landing somewhere in the distance as it screamed like its head was on fire.
“Gotcha,” I said, a smile breaking out on my lips.
But my victory was short lived. A tree demon tackled me to the ground, catching me off guard and reaching back to finish me with its claws. I used a claw of my own, gripping its wrist and struggling to hold it at bay, before the demon tried again with its other arm. I did the same with that one, but it had me pinned and I didn’t like my odds. This wooden bastard had surprising strength, and more demons stalked toward me. If I survived this assault, there was even less chance of getting up in time to finish off the others.
The Ancient had been wounded, and I’d lived long enough to make that happen, but my streak of luck didn’t stretch further. I’d done well, I thought as I wrestled with the tree demon to no avail. Most people wouldn’t have come this far, so at least I had that one thing to be proud of – one last achievement to remember. It wasn’t so bad, really. Some people had nothing to take to their graves, whereas I would die knowing that I had given it my all.
It wasn’t a bad way to go.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
No.
I wouldn’t – couldn’t give up. Not now. Not after I’d come so far.
With nothing but sheer anger fuelling me, I let go of the demon’s wrists and dodged my head to one side, avoiding its fists and sending them pounding into the dirt beside me. I quickly transformed my legs, experiencing a strange, stretching sensation as they lengthened into werewolf paws. Before I’d even finished shifting, I planted my heels into the demon’s chest and kicked it across the woods, watching it shatter into an explosion of wet bark against a solid tree. There was no way it would recover from that.
I scrambled to my feet, desperately digging my new claws into the dirt as my torn boots shredded in the struggle. When I finally stood up straight, I lost my balance immediately. God, it was harder to control than I’d thought – werewolf legs were nothing like human legs. Standing up required some leaning back to stay upright. It was all I could do to shift back into a human. I could keep the claws but the rest had to go.
The moment my legs thinned and shed their black fur, I toppled to the ground. My chin hit the dirt and sent shock shooting up my jaw. I swept the pain aside for now and glanced up at the remaining tree demons, who were closing in on me, and fast. With the Sword of Lucada gone, there was nothing to do but run, only running wasn’t in my nature.
There was only a hero’s death.
I lowered my head and stared down at the dirt, awaiting my defeat. For a moment, I wondered if Link was out there
watching me. Would he tell Keira that I had fought well, or was my failure the only thing worth reporting? I guessed that I would do the same – omitting needless details for the sake of urgency.
A sudden sound of crunching broke me from my self-pity. I glanced up at my dark surroundings to see figures moving swiftly between the tree demons. Whatever they were, they moved so fast that I was unable to see them. One by one, the demons were smashed to one side, torn apart as if they were made of air. When only one remained, a blue blur ripped right through the middle of it before coming to a standstill, five feet away from me and grinning like it harbored some big, exciting secret.
“Mr. Hannigan, I thought you’d come here to fight The Ancient?” Edgar George bent over and held out his hand, while a number of vampires – so great I couldn’t count – dropped onto the ground behind him. “Laying in the dirt won’t get things done.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I took his hand and was hauled up to my feet. Examining myself, I found that my jeans had remained intact throughout the transformation, but my boots were in too many pieces to wear. My plain, white shirt was slightly torn but my coat concealed those slash marks. I looked up, scanning my eyes around the vampires, who hissed and snarled while crouched, taking in their own surroundings.
“You’ve come to help?” I asked.
Edgar shrugged. “I couldn’t let you take all the credit, my friend. Besides, it was a good opportunity for me to approach Lena and build some bridges. You should thank her, you know. It was her and her kind who brought us here.”
I followed Edgar’s line of sight over my shoulder, where Lena stood with a pack of werewolves behind her. Some were fully shifted while others had morphed only their limbs, giving them the required strength to fight while still maintaining control over their bodies. Lena herself was clad in lace and leather, strategically strapped in places where they would remain intact if she decided to shift. In her right hand, she held the Sword of Lucada out to me.
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