His Dark Empire (Tears of Blood)

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His Dark Empire (Tears of Blood) Page 29

by Forbes, M. R.


  "God dammit," I cried, seeing that there was nowhere to hide. If the building had ever had an air conditioner it had already been removed. The rest of the rooftop was solid cement. I spun in a three sixty. There was another roof about twenty feet away. No way I could jump that. I was considering other options when he emerged from the stairwell in a smoothly executed roll and came to his feet. He had been expecting an ambush. The moment he spotted me, he charged again.

  All I could think as I raced towards the edge of the rooftop was that everybody falls the first time. Except here, there was no rubber street to bounce me back up. Here, if I fell... I wasn't actually sure if I would die, but I didn't want to find out. I willed myself to make it across, and I almost shouted with joy in midair as I felt my mind get tugged and my body soar across the gap. I watched the empty street pass under me, and then get replaced by cement. I hit the ground, hard.

  I wasn't prepared for the momentum I had built up. I slammed onto the roof and fell, my body bouncing and rolling along the hard ground. The pain was immediate and intense, registering from a dozen places. My shoulder was broken. It had to be. So was my ankle. I may have gotten away from my attacker, but I had completely messed myself up in the process.

  Once I had stopped moving, I started trying to assess the damage. I lifted my head and looked down at my splayed out carcass, saw a lot of tears in my clothes and blood trickling out through them. If I could bleed, I could die. I needed to figure out some way to stand up, to start moving, to get myself to a hospital. I needed to do it fast, because there was nothing preventing the man in the suit from going back down the steps, and coming up here.

  I heard a faint rustle, and then the familiar sound of Italian leather shoes walking towards me. So the Touched had some mojo. I wish I had known that before my leap of faith. I looked at him. He was smiling broadly, confident of his triumph.

  "Care to talk now, worm?" he asked me.

  I coughed up some blood in response.

  "Guess not," he said. He stood right over me and raised his sword two handed, prepared to bury it like Excalibur. I caught a hint of motion behind his right shoulder.

  "Wait," I said, raising my hand. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second. It was the longest fraction of the rest of his short life.

  She was on him in a blink, yanking the sword from his hands and throwing it across the rooftop, then spinning him around so he could see her face before she buried her teeth in his neck. His body writhed as he was overcome by the assault, a soft groan of pain, or was it pleasure, escaping his lips. As she fed, she looked up at me and winked.

  I didn't know if I should be relieved, or more afraid. What was Rebecca doing here? I had a feeling she was following me, but why? There seemed to be more to this than I understood. Watching her drain her victim, my body wracked with pain, I could feel my stomach churning again.

  She was finished within a couple of minutes. As the last of the life force left the poor saps body, she dropped the empty shell to the ground and carefully wiped the excess blood from around her mouth with a handkerchief. She was wearing a lot more clothes now; a form hugging long sleeve hooded sweater that dropped over a pair of black tights, knee high boots and long black gloves. She looked just as good, but much better protected from the sun. She pulled her hood up over her head before she spoke to me.

  "Looks like your luck is holding out, worm," she said. I guess she had heard the way the Touched had referred to me.

  "You're following me," I said. "Why?"

  I was too beat up to be afraid. If she had wanted to take me, she would have done it already. I suppose I should have been disgusted by what I had just seen, and in the back of my mind I was, but she had just saved my life. I could be really forgiving for that.

  She waved her arm towards the sun, shining down on the rooftop with a ferocity that was sure to be unpleasant for her, despite the attire.

  "Can we talk somewhere else?" she asked.

  "I'm a little indisposed at the moment," I replied.

  "Come off it diuscrucis," she said. "You did a great albatross impersonation, but you should be fine by now." She came over and grabbed my arm, pulling me to my feet with a harsh jerk.

  I had expected it to hurt. I had expected to see stars. It twinged a little where my ribs had broken, but otherwise I was feeling a lot better. I rotated my ankle, tested my shoulder.

  "I'm healed," I said.

  "Seriously, I know you said you were new in town, but didn't they teach you anything?" She let go of my arm and walked over to where the Touched's sword had landed. She scooped it up in a gloved hand and tossed it to me. "I think you might need this," she said.

  I caught the sword, and then held it out so I could take a look at it. It looked like a Japanese katana, with a narrow, slightly curved blade and a guard less hilt. There were symbols running along the entire length of the steel, symbols I couldn't read.

  "Do you know what these mean?" I asked.

  I was so busy looking at the sword I hadn't noticed that Rebecca was standing by the doorway to the stairs, waiting impatiently to get out of the sun.

  "Sorry," I said, and ran over.

  We went down a couple of flights, then busted through a locked door into a dilapidated apartment that had been stripped bare of almost everything except a bed, an empty fridge, and a couch. Rebecca hopped up onto the couch and perched on the back, her legs bent and spread like a roosting gargoyle. The stillness of her form in that position was more than a little intimidating. Fighting back the reflex to run again, I sat on the far arm of the couch facing her. She started to speak, and I raised my hand to quiet her. Fear was one thing, but she was right - nobody had taught me anything. I wasn't about to let her dominate the conversation. She was following me. She wanted something from me. I wasn't about to provide it without some info in return.

  "Question for a question," I said.

  She furrowed her brow. "I don't understand?"

  "I ask you a question, you answer it," I said. "Then you can ask me a question, and I'll answer it. Deal?"

  She sat motionless for long enough that I started to think she really had turned to stone. "Very well," she said. "You have a deal. What is your question?"

  "Why are you following me?"

  She was thoughtful before answering. "I'm curious about you."

  "Curious?"

  She raised her hand and chided me. "You got your answer. It's my turn." She had a point. I started to feel like I may have suckered myself with this deal. "Where did you come from?"

  If she was going to be obtuse, I could play that game too. "I grew up in New Jersey, but I was born in London, England."

  There was a hint of frustration in her eyes, but she smiled. The game was afoot. "Why are you curious about me?" I asked.

  "I've been nesting in the Statue for over fifty years. No one has ever gotten onto the island at night without me knowing it. Yet, there you were. Out of nowhere." There was something about my appearance that was bothering her. I could tell by the way she spoke about it. "How did you get onto the island?"

  I spent a few minutes thinking about the best way to answer the question. While I thought, I looked into her eyes; so blue, almost gentle looking. Captivating. I suddenly had the bright idea to try to look into her the way she had tried to look into me. I felt the tug in my mind, and then my body slammed into the wall behind the couch. She had hit me before I had even seen her move.

  "Don't do that again," she said. The blow had knocked the wind out of me. I stumbled to my feet and sat down in my spot on the couch.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "Your eyes are beautiful."

  It caught her off guard. So much so that she slipped from her crouching position and had to scramble to rebalance herself. I could have pressed the issue, made some other smart remark. I answered her question instead.

  "I was dropped off there, on the torch, by a man named Ross." I watched her closely to see how she reacted to the name drop. Her eyebrows raised just a smidg
e, but it was enough. "What can you tell me about him?"

  She got super uncomfortable. "I'm not supposed to speak about those things," she said. "I'm not allowed to say that name."

  I pressed her. "We had a deal."

  I didn't think vampires could sweat, but she did. She was fighting the war between her fear and our deal.

  "Please," she begged. "Ask me something else."

  I wanted to push her further, but I didn't have the heart. Maybe if I had been a little more evil, but then I wouldn't have been here.

  "What did you just learn about me?" It was a similar question, but it would let her off the hook.

  The relief was palpable. "I know where you came from. I know why you are here. There was another like you. Please don't ask me, because I'm not allowed to speak of her either. I had a feeling after we met that was your purpose. I wanted to know for sure. Do YOU know why you are here?"

  It was my turn to be caught off guard. I started laughing. Rebecca looked at me with a confused expression.

  "I have the thousand mile overview," I said. "But as you saw, I'm completely unprepared for this gig. How do you intend to use this information?"

  She pursed her lips, then ran her tongue along her teeth. I waited while she fought with herself over how much to say.

  "You may not understand how our kind is organized," she said, "but you will if you live long enough to learn. I'm from the demonic species nosferatu. In relation to humans, we are supreme. In the hierarchy of demons however; we are somewhere near the bottom."

  I understood enough of that to understand that I was screwed. She was calling herself a weakling, and she could kick my ass three ways to Sunday before I even saw it coming.

  "Have you considered what will happen to the nosferatu, should this world fall to the chaos of evil?" she asked.

  I hadn't. I could put two and two together though. "No more food?"

  She nodded. "That's part of the problem, but one that I hope will be overcome. There are members of the community who have been working on a synthetic."

  I don't know why, but she tilted her head and sat very still. After ten seconds or so, she started talking again.

  "No," she continued. "I believe there is a worse fate that would await us. Once the humans and the seraphim are gone it will be survival of the fittest, with no other prey to distract the stronger species. My fear is that nosferatu will be hunted to extinction. Unfortunately, I'm unique in that perspective. It's the reason I nest alone." She looked sad. "To answer your question more succinctly, I want to know all of the players so I can make sure I end up on the right side. Do you have another question?"

  It didn't sound very loyal to me, but I had a feeling there was more to it than that. Plus, she had just given me a free question. I had so many, but I wanted to get right to the point. "Do you want to be on my side?"

  She laughed at me. I don't know why, but the derision was painful. I guess I was looking for someone to validate my existence, because I felt so outmatched and uninformed. I could feel the heat rise into my face, turning me beet red. She stopped laughing, and even looked apologetic.

  "I will not be against you," she said. "Which is more than I can say for a great deal of the Divine you will come across. I will not be with you either. Not yet. By the way, do you have a name, or shall I continue calling you 'worm'?"

  "Landon," I said, feeling sheepish. It was time to change the subject, to get something with a little more direct substance. "What can you tell me about this sword?"

  I held it up with an awkward grip so she could see the symbols running along it.

  She didn't need to see them. "It's a standard issue weapon. There is nothing special about the materials, but the sigils are written in the original language of the seraph, and then blessed by a pure angel. You can't kill a demon without such an instrument."

  I guess the wooden stake thing was a myth. Now I wished I had watched more Samurai movies when I was a kid. Or at least played a sport, or done something that would have improved my hand eye coordination. Learning to use a sword was a tall order, especially since I had nobody to teach me. I was waiting for her to ask her next question, when she tilted her head again and floated to her feet.

  "We're out of time, Landon," she told me. "There is a demon coming, a messenger. He is no threat to you even in your pitiful state. It's likely they intercepted the messages being sent between the Touched agents that brought you here, realized you weren't one of theirs, and sent him to investigate." She walked over to the window, smashed it with her boot, and leaned out. "I can't be seen with you, it would mean my end. Good luck, worm." She jumped, and by the time I got to the window, she was gone.

  If I was going to be receiving visitors, I figured I ought to play it cool. I lay down on the couch with one arm behind my head, leaving the sword in easy reach on the floor next to me. Within thirty seconds the demon appeared, a small mass of leathery flesh and wings that swooped into the room through the window Rebecca had exited. His beady black eyes caught sight of me, and he landed on the opposite arm of the couch, his taloned feet digging into the padding. He was about three feet tall with a stooped humanoid body that rippled with muscle, and a small elongated snout that shimmered with teeth.

  "Master saysss findsss you, and findssss you I did," he said. His head bobbed back and forth as he spoke. "Master sayssss 'why is there another demon in my domain'." His voice rose to an almost comical pitch when he mimicked his master. His snout quivered as he took in the scents. "I wonderssss... smellsss like vampiresssss." He looked as if he was deep in thought. "Now I knowsssss why you are here." He snickered and winked at me.

  "Yeah," I said.

  I wanted to get him out of here. Even though he was diminutive in stature, he was still the first demon-looking demon I had ever seen. He could be ten percent the killer Rebecca was, and I didn't think I would stand much of a chance. Like the man lying dead on the roof, he seemed to recognize me as a demon, or at least a Turned.

  "You scared her off," I told him.

  He thought his perceived interruption of our tryst was the funniest thing he had ever heard. His laughter was like scraping Styrofoam.

  "I thinkssss you wouldn't have liked the afterssss," he said. "I tellsss the Master why you come, but you needssss to go backssss to your domain. I thinksss you should thanks me for savingsss..." His head turned, and his eyes bugged out. He was looking right at the sword.

  "Oh crap," I said, reaching down and grabbing the hilt. I pushed myself up to my knees and swung it awkwardly at the demon. He bounced skyward, avoiding the blow.

  "Me doesss notsss understand. Smellsss like demonsss, but has angel'sss stick." He was talking to himself, halfway between the window and me. I got off the couch and approached him, readying the sword for another swing. It was just like hitting a piñata, right?

  "Ooh, mastersss rewardsss me well to knowsss about you." He dodged my next two swipes, then retreated out the window. I leaned my head out to watch him fly away. I really needed to learn how to fight.

  Chapter 5

  I beat a hasty retreat from the abandoned building. As I walked, I tried to find an inconspicuous way to hold a four-foot samurai sword. Without some different clothes, it would be impossible. I considered ditching it, but Rebecca thought I would need it, and I tended to agree. Maybe I could even get lucky and hit something with it. With nowhere obvious to hide it, I held it downward and leaned on it as if it were a cane. I focused my will on it, hoping my desire to disguise the weapon as a harmless walking tool would be successful.

  Rounding the corner and making my way back into the throng, the lack of surprised faces, looks of fear, or other signs that I was a psychopath wandering the streets with a sword comforted me. Yeah, this was New York after all, but I figured there had to be some kind of limit, if not from the regular denizens, than from any tourists that I happened by.

  I decided it would be a bad idea to try a cab again, so I made my way across town on foot, finding a growing ap
preciation for my new endurance. I made it to the Apple store in good time, stopping outside the glass cube to take stock of my surroundings before I went anywhere with limited exits.

  People going about their daily life engulfed me, and it occurred to me how ignorant we all were. Sure, we had this shallow understanding of the Divine, putting a face to it through religion, telling stories about angels, demons, and the supernatural. We had books like the Bible, or even Dante's classic poetry that attempted to describe that which our living minds seemed to be able to feel, but never truly see. We understood only through the periphery, out of the corners of our eyes, like when we said a prayer before going to sleep at night, or when we just knew there was a monster in the closet or under the bed. To find out it was all real... it was all true... maybe ignorance WAS bliss?

  I descended the stairs into the even more tightly packed masses of humanity, threading my way over to a blue-shirt standing near the tablets.

  "Can I help you sir?" he asked as I approached. I pointed at one of the iPads.

  "I just need an iPad, color doesn't matter."

  The clerk laughed. "A man who knows what he wants, I like it. I'll be right back."

  He tucked his own device under his arm and headed off to the storeroom to fill my order. I stole glances wherever and whenever I could, keeping a constant vigil for anything out of the ordinary. If I had been spotted as a demon in an almost abandoned diner, the odds of being outed as non-mortal here seemed exponentially higher.

  My sight landed on a young girl who was chatting with her friend. She was maybe fourteen, with short brown hair and a plain face. She was wearing a white down jacket that hung open to reveal a white dress with white leggings underneath, silver moon boots and a knit hat that resembled a panda bear. She was pointing at a phone and gesturing like she wanted it real bad. I wondered if her friend knew she was an angel?

 

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