Dead Certain (Eve Benson: Vampire Book 3)

by P. S. Power

  “Do it.” The words were barely able to be heard, since the throat and neck were still a pretty big mess.

  She didn’t touch anything with her hands, using her telekinetic powers to wrap the medallion up and float the thing gently into the Demon’s left hand. It took a bit to get the right kind of energy to flow in, since it needed silver magical energy, not pink life energy, but by imagining it well enough, she got a line of it to flare into being a few minutes later. Then the room exploded. There was a roar that she felt against her skin, like the rushing of air out of a decompressing airplane in a movie, and a flash of light that left her blind.

  It wasn’t until her gaze cleared that she could see that Darla, looking handily like a twenty-two year old blonde hottie instead of her own grandmother, was standing there, holding a super bomb in her right hand. She looked more than a little pissed.

  “All right, Ferryman, who put you up to this?” She moved in a bit, but froze, as Eve hopped back.

  “Darla? I sort of killed whoever this is, and then saved them. I promised to get them some food, if they helped me get you back? It seems right, unless, you know you aren’t you? They were claiming to be Finias. Someone claiming to be The Librarian came and told me you were missing, at work. So… That’s as about up to speed as I can get you, if, you know, you’re you?”

  That all made sense, didn’t it?

  Darla smirked, looking at the being on the ground, and the faint trace of blood around them.

  “You brought him back from the dead, without using the Geordis? Not bad. Too good, really, for a Vampire. Who are you, really?”

  Eve rolled her eyes.

  “Eve. Your friend? Practically your best friend in the whole world? I just figured out how to do a little magic. It isn’t nearly as cool as it sounds, it took me hours. I… Probably can’t prove that, but we can get him some food, while we wait for you to work out that I’m really me? If, you know, you aren’t going to just kill me?”

  That got a glance at the floor, and a headshake.

  “No. I mean, we can get some food. Let’s bring it out here? I don’t want to make a mess inside. I’ll get some things.” Then she walked away, her legs flashing in their blue jeans. She had a long sleeved button up on, which for her was lacking in flare. Then, Eve had seen her wearing it before, when she was doing yard work, or tinkering in her workshop, so it wasn’t impossible if she’d been waylaid at home.

  She could have even been in a lace teddy and hose, and not been outside the realm of what was possible that way. It might pay off to pay attention though.

  There was no cooked food brought out, just bottles of things, which Darla opened herself, the doomsday device not being with her. Why it had been in the first, place, Eve didn’t know. One Demon, no matter how bad-assed, probably wasn’t that big of a threat to The Technician. She made stuff, for fun, so she’d have a lot of other ways to protect herself, right? Eve had seen a few things that were probably exactly that, over the years, not realizing it.

  Copper disks, and glass tubes, bits of crystal and wire, turned into what looked like art, and things with strange inlaid patterns. The house, her friend’s whole life, was filled with the stuff.

  For the moment, rather than explain anything, the blonde Demon poured what seemed to be vegetable oil down the prone body’s throat. Carefully, so they wouldn’t choke, too much. Then without speaking, she switched to syrup. Pure maple from the smell of it. The good kind, which at least was a nod to quality. There was a container of milk, followed by a smaller container of cream. When that was done, there was a switch to a new container of clear golden oil.

  Then, looking up like she was amused, rather than annoyed with the whole thing, Darla smiled at Eve.

  “So, you found The Cart Wright here, The Ferryman, and worked out that it wasn’t The Mind Taker, and killed him?” She actually chuckled then, sounding slightly wicked. “Notice, Ferryman, she also brought you back. I think you owe her, rather much, don’t you? What is our leaving you alive worth to you?”

  There was a glare from the ground, and the woman that looked all wrong for the time being, her neck still mostly a mess, having a lot of damage there, kept drinking. Darla didn’t stop pouring things in either, not even to wait for a reply.

  When that finally happened, the flow of oil coming to an end, while Darla moved to get more food, the creature, whoever they were, locked eyes with her.

  “I was bested by a mere Vampire? Kill me now, so the shame doesn’t rip the fabric of space and time in two. I can’t believe this.”

  Eve had to agree with that assessment.

  “Yeah. If it helps, I’ve only been at this Vampire thing for a bit less than a year. Do you want me to rip your head off again? I get it. That really would be a horrible thing to have known about you. They might change your name to ‘The Headless’, and tell the story at all the cool parties, when people get drunk and can pretend it wasn’t part of the original plan. The thing there, is that I really don’t think a Greater Demon would care about things like that. Well, Fram, but you aren’t him, so how about this…”

  She was about to suggest he tell them what was up, in exchange for getting to leave, eventually, when Darla chipped in.

  “Two hundred million, going to Eve, for saving you. Plus three large favors, to be decided by her, later.”

  There was an insane look then, but the Demon on the floor directed it at Darla, which was nice and didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.

  “Three hundred million, one small favor. To be agreed upon as not being too much at the time, by me.”

  “Three hundred-fifty million. Two favors, one large, one small. You don’t get to choose, but neither can be fatal to you, or lead indirectly to your death. If Eve allows, we can also make it so neither one will be in perpetuity.” She looked at Eve then and let one eyebrow go up. “So, if you want you could keep him as a slave, but only for a period of time. The normal one for such servitude is one hundred years and a day.”

  There was a rather upset moan, but the Cart Wright, or Ferryman, whoever that was, finally gave a small nod, then gasped in pain, since that had to hurt.

  “Agreed.”

  There was more food for a while, all still very moist, though a bit of it was solid. Bread soaked in honey, for instance, so that it wouldn’t be too hard to swallow. An hour later, a whole lot of the damage was simply gone, and Darla moved back.

  “Now, please explain why you invaded my home, and attacked me, with the others? Clearly to drive me into that trap, but what was the reasoning behind it?”

  There had been others, which, Eve decided, would explain why she’d gone for a weapon that would take out everything like that. The trip to the garage then would have been what? Her trying to get enough distance to activate the thing?

  If so, then Eve had nearly died that day, already. For real. So had everyone she knew, more or less.

  Sounding a lot better, if not good, The Ferryman, tried to sit up, only to find a foot on the older and slightly busty chest. Darla was doing it, her face hard.

  “No, either you give me that, or I’ll kill you, right here and now. You’re still too weak to stop me. So, tell me the plan here. Why come for me?”

  There was a sigh.

  “Fine, it isn’t that big of a thing. We wanted to, as you pointed out, drive you into that trap. The idea was to hold you for a few weeks, so that the others could finish their plan.”

  Darla looked normal, but Eve felt the pieces slip into place, which was nice, even if she wasn’t right. It felt like she was finally catching on a little. She probably wasn’t, she knew.

  “You’re trying to take out Keeley? The idea was to get to Zack and Darla, and hold them back while the rest of you went for The Mistress of Souls? Finias too then, I bet.”

  Darla looked at her, and nodded.

  “Are you sure you’re not just faking being Eve? She’s bright, but that’s sharp thinking. More than I would have expected yet. Probably right,
too, given what I know.” There was a slight grinding motion of a shoe on the Ferryman’s chest then, though no sign that it was causing pain or distress. “Is this what the whole thing over the last year has been about then? Driving the others, the Vampires, Shifters and Mages, out into the open, as a distraction so you could all move against Keeley?”

  Rather than deny it, there was a soft chuckle, and the Ferryman closed his blue eyes.

  “She’s a threat, the likes of which we’ve never seen before, in all of history. One child, barely old enough to stand, took out three of the strongest of us, without even risking herself in the slightest. She could do that to anyone. Anyone, Technician! Yes, we can see that she isn’t a big threat to most of us right now, but what will she be in ten years? What of ten thousand? Can one being hold that much power in potential, the ability to have her own army of Greater Demons, as well as a million other creatures, and not use it? We know the answer to that one, don’t we? Power, in the end is always used. Always.”

  Eve snorted, getting both of them to look at her.

  “No shit. Then this is like a bad movie plot, isn’t it? You all feel scared of her, so gang up to take her out, which forces her to start grabbing up slaves and minions that can handle you, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. How about this, you guys back the fuck off, and I’ll go have a chat with her about it? You know, like reasonable people do? After I kill Fram, I mean. You can set that up, letting the rest of your duffus pals know that you all need to tuck the stupid plans back into your jeans, and go home. How many of you are in on it? Don’t try to tell me it’s everyone, since most of them wouldn’t be that ridiculous.” She felt like punctuating it with a kick, but didn’t.

  She was a good Vampire after all, and not a thug.

  The Ferryman looked at The Technician, and frowned. It was a hard look that distorted the slightly soft granny like visage. The wrinkles on the skin didn’t match up with the move at all, causing it to seem alien and strange. Eve couldn’t tell if that was all about her knowing that this wasn’t the real Mrs. Gibson, or not, in the end. She watched, and listened to the being, in case he attacked instead of going along with them. Darla didn’t seem scared of that, but it was something that seemed pretty normal to think about to her.

  The Ferryman looked her way too, clearly thinking of her as a potential danger. Now.

  “There are seven of us in on it. I can’t give names, since that would force hands, and we have an agreement put together, already, to prevent that sort of thing. I’ll drop out, as a sign of good faith. Perhaps you could arrange a situation for me, and The Mistress of Souls, Snowflake? One where she will refrain from taking my freedom with her powers, and I will… You see, that’s the problem. The fly in the ointment, for us all. There is nothing I have that she couldn’t just take from me, is there? Not my goods, or lands, not my slaves or even my life. Thus far, none of us can protect ourselves from her ability, and that, frankly, cannot be allowed to continue. Do you have a magical fix for that one, White Death?”

  Eve thought for a bit, ignoring the names, and spoke softly.

  “Friendship?”

  “Like anyone cares about that? What do you think we are? Bronies?”

  “Okay, that’s a point, I’ll see what I can set up though. Have the others call me, if they want their name added? If I get a good agreement, they have to honor it though. Not sight unseen, or unheard, or whatever, but no tricky… You know… No trying to play with things.” She explained with a hand wave.

  The thing was, he did know. Darla got it too.

  No Demon tricks could be allowed, because otherwise the thing wasn’t going to work at all.

  Chapter seventeen

  It probably showed how immature and foolish she was, but Eve was pretty darned shocked when Darla handled the problem of her home being invaded, and being trapped in a magical medallion, however that worked, by letting The Ferryman go, with no more than a dark chuckle.

  “Don’t forget to handle the funds and favors. You might also start thinking of what to trade with Eve for the work she plans to help you with… The Mistress of Souls. It would be… A bit outside of reality’s bounds to think she cannot work out a treaty of some kind.” The good looking blonde girl smirked a little, her face nearly haughty, as if she were in total control of the situation, and the being in front of her hadn’t just told her that a group of incredibly powerful beings was trying to kill her little sister.

  Then again, she was a Greater Demon. It was hard to remember that sometimes. Eve had been told, so many times it was practically a drone in the back of her mind now, that that sort of being didn’t have to feel anything they didn’t want to. Being afraid, or even caring more than academically about Keels wouldn’t help things in the moment, so Darla wasn’t going to waste her time on it. It was kind of like being a super-psychopath, at a guess.

  Why feel things that weren’t going to work for you in the moment?

  The Ferryman, or Cart Wright, whatever the real name was, got up slowly, his neck looking better but still greatly damaged. Someone had kind of ripped it off, and then repaired it with the magical equivalent of superglue, and duct tape. Which, Eve had to admit, was kind of neat, even if it had taken a long time and the Greater Demon should have been totally dead for hours. How that had worked, she didn’t know exactly, but it was probably all about whatever made them all so tough in the first place. That, or some kind of trick that she just didn’t know about. Keeping your heart in a jar at a different location, or whatever.

  Slowly, and carefully, still clearly feeling the effects of the damage she’d delivered, the Greater Demon walked toward the outside door, and didn’t speak again. Darla didn’t try to force the issue either, letting him go. If he was a male. He looked like a girl at the moment and was called Ferryman, but did that really mean anything? More to the point, given how easily they all switched genders and forms, did it really matter ever?

  There was a flare of magic from outside the garage door, after the thing, the little one for people to go in and out, swung shut. Eve felt it, but didn’t really know what it meant. Except, she realized, she sort of did. It was like what Zack was always doing, going into the Nodes. She’d been around enough for that for the idea to be familiar. This was louder somehow. A lot more powerful seeming.

  Given that Zack was the freaking Line Walker, that probably meant there was wasted energy in the move here, rather than him being weak at it.

  Darla smiled at her, after that happened.

  “I need a snack. Come with me? We might want to talk about some things.” There was no waiting, or hesitation in the movement, the other girl just spinning on a heel and walking away quickly, back up the three steps into the house. The whole thing was nicely decorated, including the mat for them to wipe their feet on before going in. Not that they’d have anything on their feet, coming from the clean garage like they were. She made a shuffling motion anyway.

  In case there was blood on her.

  Darla turned to see the action, then gestured for her to close the door behind her, and walked into the kitchen so fast it was nearly a jog.

  Then regardless of the promise that had been given about talking, the thin and pretty girl grabbed cartons and boxes of crap, snack cakes and ice cream, from various places, and sat down, eating it all directly from the containers. About ten minutes in, with Eve just sitting and waiting, she finally managed a few words, between bites.

  “I was starving for… It seemed like months to me, in that trap. How long was it really?”

  “Um, I don’t know exactly. No more than three or four days, if I was told correctly. Then, all my info on that comes from the bad guys, I guess. We’re supposed to meet with Fram in three days? It’s Friday now. Early though.” She didn’t count it all up on her fingers, and the date was something she just didn’t know at the moment, but she knew the day of the week. That would be enough for someone like Darla.

  “Two days then. Good. The perception was vastly distort
ed, but I haven’t lost that much time on any of my other projects.” Then, with a bit more grace, she got up, and started preparing real food for herself, eating it on actual plates this time, and not just consuming whatever was at hand.

  Eve felt a slight twinge of envy. Not that she’d ever been the kind to love cakes and pies all that much, but the sense of eating, of having that connection with humanity, was simply gone for her now. Gone the way of the Dodo, and her sex drive. Letting that go, since there was stuff to do, she thought, she waited, and tried not to be half as clueless as she really felt.

  “Should I… I don’t know, call up Keeley and warn her or something?”

  Darla had a bite of real mashed potatoes, made with cream and butter, with just a hint of spices for flavor, up to her mouth, but stopped, the fork hovering inches in front of her lips.

  “That’s not a bad idea. You need to deal with her. Carefully. Sell the information to her. I know that it seems mean, but when you’re playing at this level, you can’t just be her friend, or people, Greater Demons, will use that against you, and possibly her, later. It’s less than optimal, you being tied up in these things already. Worse, Fram is going around giving you a name. Snowflake. Well, at least it’s pretty.” She ate then, as Eve got up, and sneered, a bit grumpily.

  “It’s an insult. Short for Special Snowflake. I don’t know where it comes from, but Barb, from work? She called me that a lot. It pisses me off, which is no doubt why Fram has been spreading it around for me. I can’t claim that it’s actually hurting me, can I? It isn’t against our agreement. I never even thought about setting things up so that he couldn’t call me names. He’s not even doing that too much, as far as I know. I’d give him one too, in retaliation, but I doubt it would bother him much.”

  Unless it did, and then he came at her for real, not acting all nice and polite like he had been so far. With her. He’d killed people, or ordered them killed, and that wasn’t good, but the odds were, Greater Demons were always just going to walk on that score, weren’t they? He might have to pay a fine or something, but that wasn’t the same thing as being punished for it. Worse, punishment probably wouldn’t work. You couldn’t change his mind enough to make him good by doing bad things to him. That barely worked with Humans. There was no way it would do anything of note to him.