by Nazri Noor
The pillar of darkness near the circle receded, rising like black smoke into the sky, taking a screaming Olivia Everett with it. Uriah’s mangled body stopped hovering, then abruptly dropped into the pit. He screamed to the music of his own bones cracking and crunching in the great dog’s mouth. Glasya-Labolas’s teeth closed and snapped like the jaws of a massive infernal machine. A gout of fire and a rush of hot air erupted from the sinkhole, followed by an earth-rattling burp.
“Fuck this,” boomed a deep, massive voice from within the pit.
Particles of dirt began to close around the sinkhole, like a wound healing in rapid motion, the entire chasm beginning to fill itself. The imps ceased their tooting and drumming, screaming in panicked little voices as they hurtled into the hole after their master. There was nothing to show that a demon’s mouth had ever opened there, save for the bare, circular patch of earth where there was no grass.
And above us, the moon shifted, the red of its light dripping from its surface, bathing the world in pale silver once more. Finally. The blood moon was over. Glasya-Labolas had fed, but not on the meat he’d expected. Hey, better Uriah than the rest of us.
Thor had his head to the clouds, like he was searching the sky for something. “She got away. Damn it.”
“Did she, though?” I said. “Or did the demon take her?”
“Either way, good riddance. And who’s a dum-dum now? See? I told you I knew one or two things about smart electrician shit.”
I slipped my sword back into its sheath. “Objection. You know one or two things about abusing your god powers.”
He frowned, then shrugged. “Okay, that too. But we saved the day, didn’t we?”
I looked up at the sky, wondering if any of the other gods were watching. “You, me, and Susanoo, apparently. I didn’t think that would work. Good trick to keep in mind for the future.”
Thor twirled his hammer rapidly. I watched, amused, as it blurred, wavered, and turned back into a regular carpenter’s hammer, which he slipped into his belt. “I wouldn’t get too used to it. No offense, but you had a little extra cachet since I was around. Not to say that Susanoo doesn’t like you. The guy wouldn’t have given you his sword for nothing.”
I looked down at the sword in its scabbard. “One of many, I’m sure, but it’s still special. He thinks I’m a good fighter, and he likes my pretty face.”
Thor laughed. “Every bolt of lightning is another weapon to us. A hurricane, to Susanoo, is just a storm of swords. But yeah, he keeps the master sword with him. It’s precious, the way Mjollnir is to me.”
I slipped my katana back into the folds of my jacket, smirking when Thor’s mouth fell open as the scabbard disappeared within its leathery depths. I winked, chuckling. “I’ve got tricks of my own.”
Gil loped up to us, reverted to his human form, which meant he was back to wearing just boxers – and a couple of scratches, and some bruises, and a surprising amount of loose, wet grass.
“Real nice of you two to finally fucking kill him instead of just standing around playing with your dicks.”
“Please,” I said. “That was just foreplay.”
Thor laughed heartily. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the distant rumbling of thunder. I couldn’t tell if it was something in his voice, or an actual storm brewing, far away.
I clapped Gil on the shoulders, skin slapping on skin. He winced, then frowned.
“Thanks for holding off Uriah. We couldn’t have done it without you, my fairest, hairiest friend.”
“Okay,” Gil grumbled, looking somewhat appeased.
“My furry fella. My hirsute hero.”
“Please. Stop.” He slunk off towards Bastion and Asher, no doubt concerned for Bastion’s well-being, but also interested in a goodly dose of Asher’s healing magic. Bastion had one cheek pressed to the grass, his thumb pushed up against his lip. He appeared to be napping. It was kind of cute, really.
Tabitha was sitting in the grass, her legs splayed out, her hands planted in the earth. I gave her the thumbs up, and she replied with a shake of her head. “I’ll be fine. Just need a breather, maybe a case of bourbon.”
But it was over, and both the humans and the supernaturals of Silveropolis were safe. That was what really mattered. I stretched my arms out, relishing the little crackles and pops of my joints, when I smelled something on the wind. Aggression, fear, violence. And it was headed our way.
My head whipped towards a clump of trees to the north. Gil was doing the same, staring, waiting, but he was relaxed. Wasn’t he sensing what I was picking up on?
Twigs broke and leaves shifted as a mob came shouting and stampeding out of the woods and into the clearing. Familiar people. Leading the charge was Jackie of the Blood of Garm, wielding a baseball bat with some nails in it. And beside her, brandishing Garm’s Fang, was Damien, slick with sweat, eyes wild.
“We heard the howl,” he shouted. “It was huge. Who are we fighting?”
Thor roared in laughter. Gil followed suit. I sat on the ground and shook my head. Damien searched the clearing, then our faces, clearly confused.
“What? What did I miss?”
34
Ribs, corn on the cob, and two heaps of what appeared to be potato salad and mac and cheese. The smell of smoke and tangy sugar wafted up from the plate of food Jackie pushed into my hands. Tasty.
“I could’ve fixed myself a plate, but thanks?”
She nodded over to where Damien was sitting. “Boss man says you need to stuff something down your gob. Something that isn’t blood, mind you.”
“Appreciate it,” I said, sticking my fork into the mac and cheese. “Did you make any of this?”
“The marinade for the ribs,” she said. “I put in tons of garlic, just for you.”
I laughed. “Flirt.”
She rolled her eyes at me, ruffled Asher’s hair in passing, then went off to sit with Damien again.
“She’s starting to warm up to me,” I said. “I think.”
Asher smoothed his hair back into place and shrugged. “I mean, she knows the garlic won’t actually kill you, so that’s a step.”
“Jackie’s a tough nut to crack, but she’s a great gal,” Gil said, taking a swig of his beer. “Hell of a gal.”
Hell of a party, too. The Blood of Garm knew how to have fun. The tone of the night: celebration. The parking lot outside the Dead Dog was filled with raucous laughter and rock music. Someone had set up a couple of speakers, foldout chairs, and a suitably impressive rig for grilling. I would’ve asked if the bar was allowed to use the parking lot like this, and then asked if the cops would care.
But it was just like that blood trial – everyone knew everyone in town, it seemed, and that just didn’t matter. The cops did care – about the barbecue, that is. A couple of squad cars were parked, the officers who usually rode in them out rubbing shoulders with werewolves and partaking of the spread.
“This is nice,” Asher announced, looking around, smiling.
Gil took a swig of his beer, swallowed, and grimaced. “I like it. I didn’t expect to, but I like it.”
When the boys and I first drove up to Silveropolis, previously known to me as the middle of bumfuck nowhere, I thought it was going to be the most eye-gougingly boring experience of my life. And yet there we were at a blood moon barbecue for werewolves.
Two things I learned that night. One, werewolves partied hard. Two, they could grill up some mean ribs. I wondered if every clan had its own favorite recipes, passed down from some ancient grizzled granny wolf. Maybe if they stopped posturing and fretting over petty rivalries long enough, they could put their heads together and come up with a cross-clan cookbook.
But who was I to talk? Vampire conflicts weren’t any better. You want clannish and cliquish? Hah. It wasn’t just Scepter rivalries, either. The courts had plenty of political infighting, probably enough to stage a reality show. That was why I liked hanging out with people outside my demographic. Broadens your horizon
s. The world is a colorful place. Diversity is the future. Go ahead, pet your local werewolf. Hug your mummy. Say hello to your neighborhood smoke witch.
Tabitha was over by the grill, doing incredibly creative things with the smoke wafting off the coals. A captive audience of wolves watched, offering rounds of polite applause as she turned clouds of smoke into bunnies, moons, mountains. She wasn’t joking about the bourbon, either. She sucked down a bottle shortly after we arrived at the Dead Dog, with barely any change in her mood or behavior. Maybe witches had stronger livers. Who can say?
Bastion was still sleeping like a baby when his Lorica subordinates showed up to collect him. There was a tense moment where someone or another assumed that Asher had done something nefarious to him. That passed quickly, though. The sight of Bastion sucking his thumb must have been a clear enough signal that no harm had been done, except maybe to Bastion’s reputation. Comparing notes with the Lorica, we figured out that it wasn’t just injuries or the strain of magic that knocked Bastion out. He’d been working hard for days.
I’d scooped up the Filigreed Masque and squirreled it away long before the Lorica showed up, though. But after prying what was left of Uriah off it with a twig, of course.
And Thor was more enthusiastic than anyone about showing up for a party, slinging his arm across Damien’s shoulders as a way of accepting the invitation. It was the Norse god in him, I think, all that feasting.
He came over, stumbling. I thought I spotted a little dab of rib sauce on his beard. “So this has been fun,” he slurred. “But I think I’ll be heading home for now.”
“You sure about that, buddy?” Gil said, getting up and fiddling in his pockets. Oh, right. Damien had found him a change of clothes. Denim everything, of course. “Don’t tell us you’re gonna walk again. You’re totally smashed. Thunder god or no, can’t have you going home alone like that. Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“Appreciate the offer, fanks, but no.” Thor squeezed his fists and his eyes shut, then grunted. The redness of his cheeks faded instantly, the blush washing out of his skin as quickly as the alcohol somehow left his system.
“See?” he said, sober as anything. “I’m fine. I’ll walk. I like walks.”
I nudged Asher, leaning in to stage whisper. “Five bucks says he’s only pretending because he actually flies once he’s out of sight.”
Thor pinched the air in front of his mouth, pulling horizontally. “My lips are sealed. Rest assured that I don’t use my powers willy-nilly in front of any nosy humans.”
Asher laughed. “You’ve got no room to talk about responsible use of your powers. That stunt you pulled in the woods, the bolt of lightning from the heavens? You two looked like the cover of a death metal album.”
“So what you’re saying is that we looked badass,” I said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Fine,” Asher said, folding his arms. In a mumble, he added: “It was kind of awesome.”
“I can take awesome,” Thor said. “I like awesome. Anyway, I’m heading off. Damien’s letting me take home some leftovers. Good grub.”
“Yeah.” I patted my stomach. “The eating’s good, I have to admit. But it’d be nice if blood was just as easy to find around here.”
Thor looked around, like he was checking for anyone listening, then scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, if you’re really hard up, I don’t see the harm in – you know.”
I sprang to my feet, ramrod straight. I dumped my plate in Asher’s lap, ribs and potatoes and whatever else completely forgotten. His blood was already a temptation to me when he was masquerading as Roth. But now that I knew he was a god? If you want to talk rare and exotic blood, there’s little that can be rarer. And he was offering it to me freely?
“Name the time and the place and I’m there.”
“Whoa, relax. I’ll – I’ll be in touch.”
I nodded, doing my best to stay calm. I thought about my crystal phials, so, so very glad that I brought my extraction kit with me. Nurse Sterling, reporting for duty.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” I said, sitting down again, crossing my legs to look all unbothered and cool. “Nibble on the neck, done. You more comfortable with needles? Also done. Whatever suits your fancy. I prefer biting, myself. Gives it a more personal touch.”
There was a sudden reddening in Thor’s cheeks that, again, faded a little too quickly. “Whatever. I just need you to know this is a one-time thing.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “Sometimes one-night things are the most enjoyable.”
He frowned. “I said one-time, not one-night, and you know that.”
I folded my hands behind my head, ran my tongue across the rim of my teeth, and grinned. “I fail to see the difference.”
The god laughed, shook his head, and walked away. “Pervert,” he called over his shoulder.
“Take a shower first,” I called back. “No shower, no service.”
Gil chuckled. “Get a room.”
Asher groaned. “Now I feel like I’m the one who needs a shower. I’m not even sure what the two of you are talking about anymore.”
“Me neither. Either way, I have a feeling it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun.”
“It’s funny,” Gil said. “How none of us detected Thor’s essence. For that matter, Asher, didn’t you sense Uriah’s presence under the floorboards?”
Asher shrugged. “I bet it’s the same answer for both. They’re good at hiding their signatures. If you’re a god who just wants to blend into human society, then learning how to dampen your energies so no one can sniff you out is a pretty good trick. And if you’re a dead guy’s specter hanging on for a ritual resurrection kickstarted by your fruit-peddling descendant, then well – same thing.”
I looked up into the clouds, at the moon, now gleaming silver again. “I wonder if Olivia got away, or if that demon got her. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing her again.” I curled my fingers, cracked my knuckles. If or when she came back, I’d have one or two choice things to say to her.
A murmur went across the parking lot, heralding the arrival of a large group of large women. Statuesque would be a better way to put it. Damien had invited the valkyrie to come over, and they were more than happy to make an appearance. Those ladies worked hard, and they needed a break, too. Helga, at the helm of the group, gave me a wave and a huge smile. I waved back, watching as the valkyrie were welcomed with drinks and ushered straight towards the buffet line.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” I said, shaking my head. “Us at a werewolf party, and there’s a witch at the grill, and they’re treating the valkyrie like they’re the guests of honor. It’s ridiculous. It’s sweet.”
“This is nice,” Asher said again. “I like it.”
Gil took another swig of his beer, swallowed, grimaced. “We should stay.”
None of us nodded. None of us spoke. But I knew that we all agreed.
Sure, the place was far from the kind of big city life the boys and I were so accustomed to. And sure, it only had one boba tea place, and zero Filipino restaurants. But with a little work – okay, a lot of work, considering what we’d have to do to reconstruct the Everett House – it wouldn’t be so hard to think of it as a home away from home. Perhaps in time, I’d see it as something more.
I patted my jacket, even though I knew I couldn’t feel the Filigreed Masque hidden away in one of its pocket dimensions. Vilmas and the Scepter of California didn’t know I had it. I could just claim that it got lost in the fight. I could take that risk, have the threat of the Scepter looming over me.
But if I handed it over, then the Lorica would come knocking, no doubt. Bastion would certainly remember saving the artifact from dropping in the sinkhole. I could lie about it, though not forever. You can’t keep something as strange and powerful as the Filigreed Masque and not expect the Lorica to sniff it out.
No. The best course of action would be t
o give it to Vilmas. There were so many rumors about the Filigreed Masque’s magic that it’d be impossible to tell what all it could really do without extensive testing. But you know what? Let the Scepter figure out for herself if the Masque really did protect vampires from the sun. Best case scenario, she could check out the beach. Worst case scenario? Well, worst case was still best case for me, at least until a different vampire dusted the Scepter’s ashes off the throne and took over as the new one.
Best of all, I could use the Filigreed Masque as a bargaining chit. Vilmas liked blood magic so much, did he? Well, maybe he could teach me a thing or two in return for the artifact. Maybe it was time to live a little larger, out here in the woods and wilderness where I could give the arcane arts a fair shake. It never hurts to pick up a new skill, right? For some people, it’s knitting, maybe gardening. For me, it could be blood magic.
How hard could it be?
But more than that, I could be an extra asset in battle, use my blood, or even the blood of my enemies against them. All magic, or so I’d been told, could work like a knife, or like fire, a tool for both creation and destruction. A little extra help crushing my enemies? Hey, I’ll take it. Wizard Sterling, reporting for duty.
And the next time someone shredded my friend’s skin to pieces, the next time someone close to my shriveled black heart was hurt, I wouldn’t be so useless. I could ease their pain, and put them back together again.
I could keep them around longer. I could keep them safe.
Asher nudged me with his elbow. “What are you thinking about right now? You’ve got this stupid look on your face.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, grinning at the moon.
Stay in Silveropolis, huh? This was going to be an adventure. Something special, something new. And dangerous, too, probably. But what’s unlife without a little bit of spice?
Carpe noctem, baby. Seize the night.
END
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