Takeshi sighed, closed and locked the door, and reactivated the ward. “We need those scouts, Antonio. How do we convince them?”
Ana emerged from behind the wall and took a seat next to Antonio on the couch.
“It’s the price of keeping your identities secret,” Antonio said. “We’ll need to break cover for this to work. All Sentinels can recognize one of the Winds as soon as the Gift is kindled. You’ll have to speak to them in person to secure their cooperation. As soon as they realize who you are, their natural instinct will be to obey.” He looked at Ana. “The two of you are first and third in rank among the Winds. If both of you go, they’ll be sure to fall in line.”
“Tonight was the last show anyway,” Rory said, walking into the room, his sword loose in his hand. “There’s no harm in a road trip, as long as we’re back in time to check out of the hotel with the rest of the crew.”
Antonio frowned. “Actually, I’d prefer if you stayed behind, Rory. You’re fourth in rank, so you won’t add much more weight to Takeshi’s orders. I don’t think they’ll view my presence well, if the warmth of their welcome was anything to go by. But you can pass my advice on to Takeshi over the link while he meets with them.”
Rory opened his mouth to protest but realized there was nothing to be gained by his going. “Fine. I’ll wait here then.”
Take grabbed a pen and paper from the hall table next to the phone. “We’ll need an address.”
“Here are the coordinates.” Antonio scrawled a series of Arcolin symbols. “You should go immediately.”
Rory dropped onto the couch next to Antonio. “Know any good card games?”
* * *
Within ten minutes, Ana and Take, now dressed in dark, non-descript clothing, were back in the living room and reviewing the coordinates again.
“Okay, I’m ready,” said Take.
Standing next to him, Ana laid her hand on his shoulder and began casting. The soft white haze of the teleport matrix surrounded them, and the hotel room disappeared. After a moment, the real world returned. They looked around in bemusement.
“Where the hell is this?” asked Take, seeing nothing but scrub brush and dirt as far as the eye could see.
Anaba shrugged. “No idea. Teleport coordinates don’t match up to the physical map, Take. Space-time is too randomly curved to plot direct coordinates, except by line-of-sight. That’s why you need the Gift of Air to compute a jump to a location you haven’t been before, unless you have eyes on the ground.”
Take looked around at the withered landscape. “Well, see if you can detect where these Sentinels are. Let’s get this over with.”
Ana closed her eyes and chanted the sensory spells necessary to probe the surrounding area. She frowned then opened her eyes. “Take, there isn’t anyone here for miles around. I think Antonio got the coordinates wrong.”
“Great.” Take scowled then reached out along the link to Rory. “Rory, can you check the coordinates? We’re in the middle of nowhere, and there’s no one here.”
Portland, Oregon
Rory frowned then abandoned the game of solitaire he was playing and picked up the notepad with the teleport coordinates written on it. Drawing on the computational power of his Gift, he worked out the destination in his head. “Antonio, I thought you were sending them to Colorado. These coordinates are for somewhere in Texas.”
“I know,” Antonio said from behind him.
Rory dropped the notepad and spun around, raising his defenses just as Antonio’s spell wrapped around his mind and knocked him out.
Antonio watched him collapse then immediately cast the spell for a jumper block and approached the door, raising his hand to begin another casting. The hidden tracery of Ana’s security ward flared brightly for a moment and then faded. The Sentinel surveyed his work with satisfaction before crumpling to the floor.
Central Texas
Anaba jerked her head up in alarm. “Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My wards on the hotel room just failed. They’re defenseless!” Ana ground her teeth in frustration.
“Rory, the wards are broken.” Take jolted upright in alarm. “You need to jump out of there—now!” He waited for a moment. Hearing no reply, he looked through Rory’s eyes. Nothing. Rory’s senses were silent. “I think he’s unconscious. Can you get us back?”
Ana nodded and cast her teleport spell again, using the coordinates for their room. She winced. “Damn. There’s a jumper block over the room.”
“Where’s your next nearest coordinates?” Take asked, finally beginning to panic. “We have to get back there, now!”
“The only other coordinates I have are for the dressing room at the concert hall.” Ana snarled. “We were only there for two nights. I wasn’t planning to have to jump all over town.”
Take took a deep breath to calm himself. “How long will it take to jump back to the hotel by line of sight?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty jumps. Fewer if we don’t care about being seen.”
“Make it fewer.”
She began casting the first spell.
Portland, Oregon
The hotel door crashed open and five men entered, spreading out warily to check the rooms for occupants. The leader glanced at Antonio and Rory lying on the floor. He pointed to Rory. “He’s the one. Get him contained and we’ll go.”
One of the others kicked Antonio lightly. “This one is dead.” He sniffed the air. “This room stinks of magic. What happened here?”
The leader growled, fangs exposed. “It doesn’t matter. We have what we came for.”
“But surely—”
With a snarl of rage, the leader lashed out and clawed him across the face. “Let the Master worry about what happened. It’s not our place to question our orders.”
A low rumbling growl issued from the second man, and his eyes grew red as his wounds closed. Then he and the others turned away from Antonio and began wrapping Rory in a cocoon of containment spells. After picking him up, the five of them walked from the room.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Take and Ana came barreling into the room, almost tripping over Antonio’s body. They surveyed the other rooms before returning to the living room and checking Antonio’s pulse.
“Dead.” Take shook his head.
Laying her palm on Antonio’s chest, Ana took a deep breath and probed his body with her senses. “Oh, God. He’s completely layered in compulsion spells. The last one stopped his heart.” She sat back and scanned the room. “The jumper block has his signature on it. Damn. He probably broke my wards from the inside as well.”
Takeshi slumped, staring at their first ally and mentor. “A Trojan Horse. How could we have been so stupid?”
Ana stood, practically shaking with fury. “We got used to winning and let our guard down. Well, that stops now!” She lifted her staff, which glowed a deep violet as she began casting spells, one after another.
“What are you doing?” Take watched the tracery of magic flicker around the room.
“Detection spells,” Ana said, her eyes closed in concentration. “If there’s any trace of who did this, I’ll find it.”
Take closed Antonio’s eyes. “I’m sorry, brother. We should have been more careful.”
“Yes!” shouted Ana. “Their psychic shields are crap. There’s a faint residual signature.”
“Can you track it to Rory?”
Ana nodded. “Yes, but it’s fading. We have to go now if we want to follow it.”
“By ourselves?” asked Take. “With no backup?”
“No choice,” she said, following the psychic spoor in her mind. “I can’t hold this trace for long.”
Take grimaced. “Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 10
September 2020; House Jiao-long Stronghold, Grand Mesa, Colorado
“I have waited for this moment with great anticipation, Sentinel.” Jiao-long watched Rory struggle against the vampires who held him
. The large underground bunker was illuminated by mystic white flames from torches racked against the carefully mortared stone walls. Next to Jiao-long was a sacrificial altar of white marble, stained with blood. “Your miserable triad and its allies have hunted down and destroyed almost all of my children.” He smoothed down his black robe with the dragon seal of House Jiao-long embroidered on the left breast. “Liang was my Primogenitor, my strong right hand, and second-in-command. Your lover took him from me.”
Rory stopped struggling and stared silently up at the Firstborn vampire.
“Oh, yes,” said Jiao-long, smiling as he ran a bony hand over his close-cropped black hair. “I am aware of your juvenile romantic interest in the Wind of Earth. My agents could read your emotions quite clearly when the two of you appeared in public. From what they could see, the attraction is mutual. That is why I have chosen you for the ritual I am about to perform.” He gestured to the engraved crystal chalice on the altar next to him. “It has taken me ten thousand years to recreate the magic to make this artifact. Now I am finally ready. Watch closely, and you will see history made anew.”
Claws sprang from the vampire’s hands, and he sliced into his own wrist, letting his blood pool in the chalice as he chanted in an unknown language. The symbols on the chalice blazed with flickering multicolored light as he spoke. Eventually, he stopped his spellcasting and set the chalice down on the altar. After healing the gash on his arm, he tore away the tape over the musician’s mouth.
Rory immediately spoke an activating word of power that made the cross around his neck flare bright blue. The vampires holding his arms flinched but didn’t let go.
Jiao-long grasped the chain of the amulet, yanking it firmly down to break the silver links before casting it aside contemptuously. “Sentinel, there is nothing in the Gift of Air that can possibly help you while my containment spells continue to suppress your abilities. If you attempt another casting, I will crush your jaw.”
“So go ahead and kill me,” Rory said defiantly.
“I have no intention of killing you, Sentinel. Your leader took my Primogenitor from me. It is only fitting that you take Liang’s place at my side.” Jiao-long laughed. “Let your triad finally understand what it means to lose their dearest blood.”
“I’m not going to join you!” Rory glared at him without comprehension. “What are you talking about?”
Jiao-long picked up the crystal chalice. Grabbing Rory’s lower jaw in the vice-like grip of his other hand, he levered the Sentinel’s mouth open with cruel force and then tipped the contents of the chalice into his mouth.
Rory choked, his mouth thick with a stream of blood.
“Drink, boy, or you’ll drown.” Only when he was satisfied that Rory had drunk enough did he set the chalice back on the altar.
Rory coughed uncontrollably to clear the taste of blood and then tried to vomit the vile liquid back up. He couldn’t make himself do it. A deep lassitude spread through his body, and he sagged to his knees, held up only by the Nightwalkers gripping his arms. “You’re wasting your time,” he forced himself to say with great difficulty. “A Sentinel can’t be turned.”
“The Gift’s resistance to vampire blood is not absolute, my young scion. All that is required to defeat it is a properly prepared vessel. You are my vessel now.” Jiao-long picked up the chalice again and began chanting in the same language as before.
As the spell wrapped around him, Rory descended into paralysis.
Jiao-long finished casting and inspected the layers of magic surrounding the Sentinel with satisfaction. Setting down the chalice, he casually grabbed a fistful of Rory’s hair, raising the Sentinel’s head until their eyes met. “You will be the beginning of a new race of Firstborn, Rory Primogenitor Jiao-long. A sacrifice of power is all that is left to close the circle and fill the vessel. Then I will bind your allegiance to me before I send you out to do my bidding. Your lover’s death will be more than enough to complete the ritual.”
“No,” whispered Rory, forcing the words out. “No, please.”
“Never beg, Rory,” Jiao-long said with amusement. “It’s unseemly.”
Emerging from behind a shroud of invisibility, Take sliced off the heads of the two lesser vampires with a single, well-practiced movement of his katana. Rory sagged against the wall and could only watch as Take stepped in front of him.
“Hello, Takeshi,” Jiao-long said without fear. “I have been waiting for you.”
“Well, here I am.” Take drew the wakizashi from his belt with his left hand and stalked toward Jiao-long, both blades out and ready.
Jiao-long stepped backward as the Wind approached, moving into the open space at the head of the room. “For more than two years, you have masterminded your Sentinel allies in their war of extermination against me. Are you sure you can handle a fair fight?” A bar of green light extended from his hand, coalescing into a long, curved sword.
Take snorted. “Bring it on.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t wait for me to come to you. Too much of my power is entrapped in the spells I have cast on your lover for me to blast you out of existence as you deserve.”
Take blinked at him and scowled. “Rory’s not my lover, you sick fuck. What the hell gave you that idea?”
Jiao-long chuckled. “Because he’s in love with you, Takeshi—as much as you are in love with him. You should have shown more courage and told him sooner.” He raised his sword. “Now it’s too late.”
Takeshi clenched his teeth in rage but did not drop his guard. A deep rumble sounded from the passageway leading out of the central chamber, escalating to a thunderous roar. “And you should have had more brains.” Take grinned maliciously. “It really wasn’t smart to bring all of your scions together in one location. Ana just undermined the other rooms of your fortress and brought it down on them all at once. If any of your children survive the cave-in, she’ll pick them off one by one while they’re trapped. After I kill you, House Jiao-long will be dust—forgotten.”
Jiao-long howled in rage. He leapt forward to strike at Take with the green sword, but Take easily blocked the blade and returned his attack. They circled as they fought—stroke for stroke, faster and faster. The Firstborn’s fury gave him the initial advantage, but as Takeshi adjusted his style to compensate, the vampire’s overriding anger began to work against him. He started to make mistakes. Finally, Take blocked Jiao-long’s sword with his katana and drove it to the side before casually slicing the Firstborn’s throat with his wakizashi. Jiao-long stumbled back, his eyes wide and blood pouring from his neck and mouth.
Take snarled at him then planted his boot in the center of Jiao-long’s chest. Tapping into his Gift for strength, he kicked the vampire off his feet and then drove his katana between Jiao-long’s ribs, into his heart. Jiao-long clawed at the blade feebly as his body tried to regenerate the damage, but the charmed steel held fast, preventing the wound from closing. He struggled for longer than Take expected, but eventually his hands dropped and the light faded from his eyes, still wide open in disbelief. Take grunted in satisfaction then hurried to Rory’s side.
The paralysis lifted from Rory’s limbs, and his vision sharpened, but he lay still, watching Takeshi approach. Even from across the room, he could hear Take’s heart beating, and he breathed in the sharp scent of the Sentinel’s sweat, tasting the psychic undercurrent of exhilaration.
Take laid his swords down on the floor and knelt before him, reaching out to touch Rory’s face. “Rory, can you hear me? It’s over. You’re safe.”
Rory smiled, letting his eyes turn red and his fangs extend. “I know.” Using a telekinetic pulse, he calmly threw Takeshi against the side wall.
Take’s eyes widened in shock and his arms flailed as he was thrown back, slamming into the wall. Reaching into his new abilities, Rory cast a containment spell of hardened air over his triad brother before standing. “You’re the one who isn’t safe, Take.”
Take railed silently against the spell that
held him against the wall. “No,” he said, his voice choked with denial. “It can’t be. Sentinels are immune!”
Rory shrugged. “Apparently, all it takes is a properly prepared vessel and a sacrifice of power. Sounds fairly simple, although I’m sure it’ll take me a while to process all of his memories and figure out the details.”
Take stopped struggling momentarily. “Memories? What are you talking about?”
“All that he was is now part of me,” Rory said. “And I think I’ll go by the name Sean. Out with the old and in with the new, after all. I never did really give my first name a fair shake.”
Running footsteps sounded behind him, and Rory retracted his fangs, letting his eyes fade back to green before he faced Anaba. Easily removing Jiao-long’s block on their link, he decoded the threads of his triad sister’s thoughts with the ease of long practice.
“Rory,” thought Anaba, “are you all right? I cleared the rest of the fortress. They’re all gone except for Jiao-long.”
Take screamed in their minds. “Ana, it’s not Rory!”
Immediately, Rory leapt over the altar, dodging Ana’s bolt of white-hot light, which shot through the space where he had stood. He dodged her attacks easily, drawing on his Gift to teleport around the room. Ana whirled furiously, hurling fire and lightning in his wake. She sacrificed complexity for speed as she drew on the simple spells she had charmed into her staff. All too quickly, the well of magic she had deposited in the staff was depleted, leaving Ana with only her internal power reserves. She dropped the staff and continued to cast, working the spellforms with both hands, but it was slower—too slow—and each spell drained her. Rory laughed as she tired, easily staying one step ahead of her and buoyed by the well of power he had absorbed from Jiao-long.
It couldn’t last. Finally, she found nothing left when she reached for more power. Rory, his fangs out and visible, just grinned at her. He jumped to within arm’s length and closed his hands around her throat. With a smirk at Take, he casually snapped Ana’s neck before dropping her body in a heap. Then he devoted his attention to the other member of his triad and drew back the spell of imprisonment he had cast.
Nightfall (Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition) Page 7
