Nightfall (Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition)

by Ahsanuddin, Arshad

  Edgar reached out and took the card. “Why are you doing this, Antonio?”

  “Because you saved my life, and all you asked for in return was to be with your family. Consider this my follow through.”

  Edgar slipped the plastic card into his pocket. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. You have what we all dream of, Ed. Enjoy it while it lasts, and live a long, happy life. That’s all I want for you.”

  Edgar said nothing in reply, merely walked away.

  Antonio sighed and rubbed his eyes. I’m too old to let a dismissal from a subordinate sting so much. Antonio walked out of the opposite entrance of the hotel and out onto the street. He walked down the less travelled streets until he came to an alleyway where he could teleport back to his base unobserved. He stood in the shadows and opened his senses wide, to fix his position and jump back to more familiar settings.

  Nightwalker.

  Antonio snapped his head to the side and picked out two young men leaning against the wall of the alley, talking. Ordinarily, Antonio wouldn’t have bothered to kill them, but he could feel the three humans coming down the alley from the other side. This could get ugly.

  * * *

  It had been a long, hard slog, but finally Nightfall had cause for celebration. The band had put out smaller releases before, of course, but this was their first professionally produced and published album. The scents of cumin and tamarind filled the crowded Indian restaurant, which hummed with a low rumble of conversation as the three wound up their congratulatory dinner.

  “To us.” Takeshi raised his beer. His almond-shaped brown eyes creased with laughter, which belied the somber charcoal suit he wore over a black T-shirt.

  Ana tapped her martini against his glass. “Long may we reign.” Straight jet hair framed her face, and her bronze skin was flushed from the alcohol.

  Rory’s glass of whiskey joined theirs with a clink. “Amen.” He had come directly from work and still wore a simple white dress shirt and tie, his auburn hair tied back in a ponytail.

  They knocked back a slug of their drinks before gazing again at the CD on the table before them. It featured a picture of them on stage: Ana on keyboards, Takeshi on guitar, and Rory behind the drum kit. If sales justified it, they had been promised a concert tour of larger venues in the fall.

  Rory couldn’t wait. They’d been at this part-time for four years—since their senior year in high school—and it was just starting to get good. They’d already racked up a loyal following on the club circuit, and the doors they had been waiting to open had finally materialized. He sipped at his drink, contemplating his two best friends. Sometimes it seemed like they had been together since they were zygotes. They had somehow picked each other out in junior high, each discovering a common love of music that transcended their diverse backgrounds. Takeshi had lived in the city with his grandmother since he was a child, but Anaba and Rory were transplants, from New Mexico and Massachusetts respectively. They had watched each other’s backs ever since, against all the trials of adolescence, and the idea of forming a band together seemed like the most natural thing in the world. That they had managed to attract a fan base never ceased to amaze him. He was just out there having fun, and people were actually willing to pay him to do it.

  I’d be happy doing anything if it was with Take. And Ana, he corrected himself silently as he glanced over at his companions. Damn. I can’t afford to make that kind of slip-up, not even in my own head. He scowled as the old fear resurfaced, deflating some of the buzz generated by their dinner celebration. Take would never want me like that. It’s pure masochism to let myself think of him as anything more than my best friend. He sighed inaudibly. Life sucked suddenly.

  Rory was wrenched out of his sour musings by the object of his secret thoughts tapping him on the wrist. He looked up to find Take and Ana staring at him expectantly. “Sorry, what?”

  Ana rolled her eyes. “Take asked why you looked so pissed off all of a sudden.”

  Rory reddened. “Um, it’s nothing. Just a passing thought.”

  “Care to share with the class?” Take raised an eyebrow.

  Rory shook his head, absently brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Guys, I think it’s time to call it a night. We have to work in the morning, at least until the album starts to take off.”

  Take, his eyes on Rory’s, just sipped at his beer.

  “Fair enough.” Ana checked her watch. “I’ll flag down our waiter, and we can hit the road.” Not bothering to signal, she stood, smoothed down her beige suit, and put on the matching jacket. Then she walked over to where the wait staff stood talking quietly.

  Rory grinned. Another example of Ana’s classic impatience. Turning his attention back to Take, he found his friend’s eyes completely focused on him. Rory froze, knowing that Take only looked so intent when he saw a problem to solve, and then nothing would get in his way until he had an answer that satisfied him. Shit.

  “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  “Like what?” Rory swallowed nervously.

  Take frowned, his eyes narrowing. “You keep getting in a bad mood lately, even when we’re having fun.” He leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of him. “And when you do, most of the time you’re looking at me. Did I do something wrong?”

  “No! No, Take. Honestly, it’s nothing you did.” Rory’s thoughts turned inward, and he silently berated himself for being so obvious. “It’s my problem, not yours.”

  Take laid his hand on Rory’s. “Are you sure it’s a problem?”

  Rory blinked. Did he know? “What?”

  Take shrugged. “What’s bothering you—are you sure it’s a problem? Maybe it isn’t as big a deal as you think. If you want to talk about it…”

  Opening his mouth to speak, Rory thought better of it. “It’s nothing.” He dropped his gaze.

  Take squeezed his hand again and then let go. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He stood. “Are you sure you’re ready to go home? It’s not that late. Maybe we could go to a club or something.”

  Rory sighed. Sooner or later, I really have to grow a spine. “Okay. Maybe another hour or two, but then I have to go.”

  “All set.” Ana returned, waving the bill.

  “Change of plans. We’re going out.” Take grinned.

  “How did you convince him?”

  “I asked.”

  She snorted. “That was direct.”

  “I’m a direct kind of guy.”

  “Anyplace in particular?” asked Rory.

  Ana’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I know. Someone at work mentioned a place that’s right on the brink of becoming popular. I meant to scout it, in case they want to book us for a gig.”

  Take looked at her skeptically. “You meant to scout it? You don’t actually know where it is?”

  She smirked, supremely confident as always. “I know roughly where it is, and we can just look around until we find it.”

  Rory’s expression failed to hide his annoyance. “Everything has to be an adventure with you, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re always the serious one, Rory. Come on. Life’s too short!” She grabbed her purse. “Try to keep up, boys.”

  The spring night was crisp and clear as they followed Ana down the streets of the Mission District. After a few turns, they found themselves in a deserted lane between buildings. Ana frowned, trying to get her bearings. Take and Rory watched with amusement, knowing she wouldn’t admit to being lost. She didn’t. Instead, she led them down another deserted alley back toward the street. Her path was suddenly blocked by two men stepping out of the shadows on either side of her.

  They were both young, seemingly in their late teens, and wore jeans and T-shirts under light leather jackets. The one on the left smiled and stubbed out his cigarette on the wall next to him. “A little off the beaten path, aren’t we?”

  Ana colored. Behind her, Rory and Take tensed, the haze of alcohol and good food evaporating.


  “Don’t mind us, boys,” Ana said with typical bravado. “We see where we need to go.” She pointed to the street ahead of them, the lights shining invitingly.

  The other man smiled, a decidedly wrong smile—as if his teeth were too long, too pointed to be real. “I don’t think so.”

  The three musicians backed away as the two men approached them, and then suddenly there was only one in front of them. He grabbed Ana’s left arm. The sleeve of her suit jacket dripped red where the points of his claws sank into her flesh.

  Rory blinked. Claws? Brushing off his confusion, he leapt forward as Ana screamed in rage and swung her handbag, slamming it against the man’s head. Rory was jerked to a halt by what felt like a band of iron encircling his shoulder. Turning, he found the hand of the other teenager clenched like a vice above his right arm. On the other side of him, Take struggled to free himself from the man’s other hand.

  Ana kicked her assailant between the legs. As he staggered backward, she used the distraction to reach into her pocket and pull out her key ring. Letting her keys slide between her fingers, she slammed her clenched fist forward and drove a protruding key into the man’s right eye, just as he straightened up again.

  The teenager holding Take and Rory snorted and then began to laugh.

  The injured teen merely blinked as the tissue of his ruined eye visibly knitted together. Only the blood spilled down his face marked where Ana’s attack had landed. He growled, his irises gleaming bright red, and then he yanked Ana forward into his arms. “Little girl, you just made a serious mistake.” He smiled, revealing curved fangs where his canines should have been. “And it’s going to cost you.”

  * * *

  The humans walked into view, two men and a woman, all in their early twenties. They were obviously half drunk and lost, the woman scanning the walls of the alley for landmarks. One of the Nightwalkers stubbed out his cigarette on the wall behind him, then stepped into their way. “A little off the beaten track, aren’t we, folks?”

  Antonio watched the three of them awaken to their peril and try to brazen it out. The woman pointed toward Antonio’s end of the alley. “Don’t mind us, boys. We see where we need to go.”

  The vampire that had spoken answered, and the other pushed away from the wall as well. “I don’t think so.”

  Damn! They were going to kill all three, right here, while he watched. He was lucky the vampires were so intent on their prey that they had ignored the other heartbeat in the narrow street. Antonio cast kinetic shields around himself, hardened with some of his souped-up personal defense spells, and readied a thermal lance, ready to take out the vampires as soon as he had a clear shot.

  That proved difficult. The first vampire grabbed the woman’s arm, and the second darted around them to hold the two men fast. Come on, people. Give me an opening.

  The woman kicked the first Nightwalker between the legs and then slammed her keys into his right eye while he was distracted. The second Nightwalker laughed.

  The three humans watched incredulously as the vampire’s damaged eye regenerated in moments. The injured vampire snarled and jerked the woman forward, encircling her with his arms. “Little girl, you just made a serious mistake—and it’s going to cost you.” As she struggled, he manhandled her into a more convenient position, finally turning his back entirely to Antonio for the first time.

  Perfect shot. Antonio released the thermal lance spell he’d prepared and blew the vampire’s head off, the azure fire of the spell spreading down to consume the rest of the Nightwalker’s undead flesh, leaving only ashes behind. The woman, suddenly released, overbalanced and fell to the ground. The second vampire threw the two men into the walls on either side of the alley and dropped to the ground, and Antonio’s second lance went just over his head to explode against a dumpster farther back in the shadows.

  The second vampire slapped his hands together and summoned power, sending it boiling out above the woman’s prone form to fill Antonio’s end of the alleyway with emerald fire, but it didn’t penetrate the Sentinel’s shields. Corrupted flames. Strictly mid-level spellcaster. He’s no threat.

  The vampire stared at him in disbelief, then got to his feet and ran away in a blur. Antonio’s next lance spell took him high in the back and burned him to ashes. Not bad for an old timer. Now what the hell do I do with these three?

  He’d have to put a tracking spell on each of them, then have his Air Sentinels visit them and quietly wipe their memories. Which meant that, for right now, he was free to tear them each a new one with impunity. He stepped forward into the light, letting his anger show. “Don’t you people have any sense? Next time, stay in the light, or there might not be someone around to save you.”

  He turned to the woman, meeting her eyes to emphasize the lecture he was about to give.

  FIRE.

  Antonio swallowed his words and stared at her more closely. She looked Native American, but he wasn’t sure. He looked at her eyes again and saw the authority of the Wind of Fire take shape in her gaze. He glanced at the first man, a tall redhead, who stood next to her, breathing hard in confusion and anxiety. AIR.

  Finally, hardly daring to believe, he focused his attention on the final member of the trio, an Asian man who already regarded him with suspicion, as if he were just as great a threat as the vampires had been. EARTH.

  “Merciful God,” he whispered. Then he straightened and looked directly at the Wind of Earth, silently casting tracking spells on all three of them. “My Lord, none of this will make sense tonight, but tomorrow you’ll understand. My name is Antonio Martinez, and any Sentinel you meet in the city can direct you to me. When you open your eyes, seek me out and I will answer any questions you may have.” Then he immediately cloaked himself in a shroud of invisibility and waited to see what they would do.

  The Asian man recovered first, turning to the others in angry bewilderment. “What the hell just happened?”

  Antonio watched as they argued, finally deciding that they had hallucinated the whole thing and were ready to go home. They headed back to the street and went to the nearest BART station. Antonio frowned as they split up, then pulled out his cell phone and called his second-in-command. “Daniel, get three surveillance teams prepped and ready to deploy as soon as I arrive. I’ll need them to track down a couple of new recruits by the tracking spells I have in place. Make sure the teams are combat veterans, because they’ll need to provide protection as well. I’ll explain the rest when I get back to base.”

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket and took one last look at the Wind of Earth before the Asian man disappeared onto a bus. “Welcome to the party, my Lord.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Rory was floating above a city of alabaster towers and golden streets. What the hell?

  “You’re dreaming, idiot,” Ana said, clearly amused.

  “Oh, right. That explains it.” He frowned. I usually dream about Take, not Ana.

  “Really?” asked Take’s voice.“What kind of dreams?”

  “Um, never mind.” Rory looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Who cares?” said Ana.“It’s a dream. Let’s go exploring.”

  Take laughed.“It really does have to be an adventure with you, doesn’t it?”

  “Bite me, Take,” Ana said.“We seem to be moving, anyway.”

  Ana was right. They were moving, accelerating toward a single high tower in the center of the city, which glowed brightly in the soft light of early morning. When they drew closer, Rory was able to make out geometric designs and bizarre symbols intricately carved in the white stone. Wow. My dreams aren’t usually so vivid. He could even see the lines of individual bricks in the tower’s wall—a wall that was approaching rather quickly. Rory tried to will himself to slow down, but his pace only accelerated.

  Just when he was sure he was going to crash and wake up, he passed through the stone and found himself inside the tower. From his vantage point, he could see a multitude of people dressed in colored ro
bes. All of them were standing and yelling at a woman who stood calmly at a podium in the center of the room. She wore a loose white dress, and her waist-length black hair was interwoven with white ribbons. A slim sword in a white leather scabbard was belted around her waist. Next to the podium was a metal table holding a crystal chalice, which was deeply engraved with more symbols like those on the outside of the tower.

  “Freaky,” Take commented. “Town hall meeting?”

  “You don’t wear swords to a civics meeting, Take,” said Ana. “Look around. They’re all armed in one way or another. Those guys next to the door are actually wearing armor, for God’s sake.”

  An elderly man in a green robe strode forward clutching a long gold walking staff topped with faceted blue crystal. He banged the staff on the floor until the shouting subsided and the people in the stands reluctantly took their seats.

  Turning to face the woman in white, he spoke deeply in a language Rory had never heard before; somehow, Rory could understand every word.

  “Sister Narissa,”—the man pointed his staff at the chalice—“this artifact is forbidden and must be destroyed. It is the tool of the enemy. We have spent generations eliminating the knowledge of how to perform this ritual. You cannot intend to use it.”

  “With respect, Guildmaster, we have no choice. The Children of Darkness will overrun our forces within weeks, and the other nations fare no better. We must take bold action if we are to prevent their corruption from extinguishing the world.” She drew herself up to her full height. “After interrogating the Firstborn we have captured, I have discovered the words to unlock the original ritual, which may be more palatable to us. Instead of enslaving the soul of a proxy, as the Firstborn have done for centuries, I will do as they did in the beginning and use myself as a vessel. My own soul will be the emissary to the higher powers. Only through their intervention can we save ourselves.”