by N M Thorn
“What?” Gypsy’s mouth stretched into a feline grin, the tip of her pink tongue showing between her fangs. “You have the world’s best backside, and I’m sure if I ask you to bend down, you wouldn’t do it for me. Anyway, can’t a girl have a little fun?”
“I’m going to kill this cat,” moaned Damian, placing two cups of steaming coffee on the table.
“I’m not going to ask,” murmured Cole, pulling a cup closer, but his shoulders shook in silent laugher. He took a sip of his coffee and put it down, sobering up. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“About our little underground adventure,” replied Damian, tracing the shape of the cup with his finger. “Based on what we discovered in the mines, I believe we should go back to our roots, and I was wondering if you could help me with some research. You’re better with all this modern computer stuff.”
Cole leaned back, staring at him quizzically. “Which roots do you have in mind and why?”
“Slavic roots, Nikolai. What do you know about the Indrik-Beast?”
“Not much.” The vampire shrugged. “I’ve heard the name, but that’s about it. Are you sure that was the Indrik-Beast?”
“How many magical creatures the size of a mammoth with a horn on their head do you know? I’m sure. Hundred percent,” replied Damian. He bit his lip and stared out the window, gathering his thoughts. “So, here is the deal. According to Slavic lore, the Indrik-Beast is not a monster. It’s neither good nor evil. It dwells underground, guarding wells, rivers, lakes—any body of water that has magical properties to it.”
“Then what is it guarding in the Arizona desert?” murmured Cole, staring at Damian over the rim of his cup.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” replied Damian, a heavy knot twisting in the pit of his stomach. “But since the Indrik-Beast belongs to the Slavic world, I’m not going to be surprised if the monster haunting Paradise Manor belongs to the same realm.”
“Slavic pantheon?”
“I hope not,” muttered Damian. “All I need is to face Morena, the goddess of Winter and Death, when I barely have enough energy to kill a run-of-the-mill demon.”
“I don’t know about demons, but from what I’ve heard, you kill vampires just fine, despite your power-impotency,” murmured Cole reproachfully, but then raised his arms, stopping Damian from answering. “Why do you think it’s Morena?”
“The cold, the winter blizzard, the ice,” replied Damian, his mind flashing back to the weird trip down memory lane he took during his incarceration in the city jail. He recalled how cold he had felt, and a deep shudder ran down his back. “Since I moved to Blue Creek, I witnessed a few supernatural occurrences, and all of them had just one thing in common—freezing temperatures.”
“It can’t be Morena,” objected Cole after a moment. “Rumor has it she’ll be out of the picture for a while. After her latest indiscretions, Veles keeps her under control.”
Damian nodded, thinking that Cole was most likely right. Veles, the god of the Three Realms, was one of the most powerful deities of the Slavic pantheon, and if he kept the goddess of Winter and Death imprisoned, there was no way she could escape to play in the realm of humans. But who else could create a winter storm in the middle of Arizona’s heat?
“I can almost hear your brain clicking,” said Cole, smirking. “So, we don’t know who it is, but we do have a few facts we can start with.” He got up and started pacing between the table and the counter. “Firstly, we know we have to dive into Slavic lore. That narrows things down significantly.”
“Yes and no.” Damian followed his brother with his eyes, his fingers rubbing the bracelet on his wrist absentmindedly. “Any god or powerful being of magic from any pantheon could have summoned the Indrik-Beast. But you’re right. We can start the research with Slavic lore.”
“Good.” Cole halted, turning to face Damian.
“There is also something I want to check out today after you leave.”
Damian grabbed a large folder with the architectural blueprints of Paradise Manor and placed it on the table. He took the cups and put them on the counter next to Gypsy, giving her a killer stare. Then he unfolded the general plan, smoothing the creases down.
“Here is what I noticed,” Damian said, pointing at the plan. “According to this blueprint, the location of rooms and hallways on the left and the right sides of the house is absolutely identical. But when I visited the left wing, the main hallway dead-ended into a locked door. In the right wing, in this place, there is another hallway that’s positioned at ninety degrees to the main one. It leads to River’s bedroom and the bedroom she gave me on the opposite side of it.”
He circled the small hallway with two rooms on the plan and glanced at Cole, but he just nodded, encouraging him to proceed.
“In the left wing, however, this entire area was converted into a large, single space,” Damian continued, “most likely by Nick Evans since he was the one who started the so-called ‘reconstruction’. So, the question is, what is in this area”—he circled the left edge of the building on the blueprint—“and why is it warded so heavily?”
“Let’s go and check it out now,” offered Cole with a slight shrug. “River is away. Perfect time. Why should we wait?”
Damian folded the blueprint and shook his head. “No offense, but I work alone. I didn’t feel comfortable when you went with me into the mines and brought a little human girl with you. I nearly killed both of you. I’m not making the same mistake again.”
Cole tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “You know that I’m a vampire with a thousand years of experience with the supernatural, right?” he said quietly and leaned forward slightly, bracing himself against the table. “I’m not easy to kill.”
Damian froze in place, feeling cold perspiration covering his forehead.
“I know that. You don’t need to remind me what you are every chance you get,” he replied, everything inside him stretched like a tightly wound string. “The left wing of the house is heavily warded against anything that moves—good, evil, and in between. The first time I went there, I had River’s father with me, and I almost lost him there.” He wiped his face with his hand, his moves sharp and jerky. “I can’t do it, Cole. Sorry.” He exhaled and looked away. “I’ve been working alone for centuries, and I’m not going to change the way I do things now. I’m happy you’re here, and if you want to help me with some research, I’d appreciate it. But I won’t do anything to put you in danger.”
“Your presence here has already put me in danger... My true nature puts me in danger. Life is hazardous to your health, don’t you know?”
“Then I’ll be gone from Blue Creek as soon as I finish helping River.”
Cole sighed and sat down. “What happened to you, Dima?” he asked softly. “Why are you so... guarded and... abrupt? You told me your power was stripped, but why and how? You’re a Child of Earth—a powerful one from what I can see. But you can’t selfheal, you don’t have the second sight, and you’re getting drained from minimal use of your magic. I’m here... I can help you... Let’s talk like we used to.”
Damian smirked bitterly. “What do you want me to tell you? A lot has happened.” He raked his hand through his hair, pulling it down over the left side of his face. “I’m okay.”
“Fine. You don’t want to talk about your past, I’m not going to force you,” said Cole, raising his hands. “But look around, Damian. You have people who actually like you and care about you despite your attempts to push them away. And I am not talking about myself only. Are you going to keep an arm’s-length relationship with everyone?”
“What are you talking about?” Damian scowled, his hand gripping the edge of the table tightly.
“River and Sam, of course.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Are you really that blind? I’ve been around them for a few short hours, but I could see it. And you—”
“Okay, I’m done,” Damian growled, rising, towering over his brother. “Aren’t you late f
or work?”
“Good talk, big bro.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Was that your attempt to intimidate me?” He laughed, throwing his blond curls off his face, but quickly sobered up and frowned. “You know that sooner or later, you will end up in a situation you can’t handle on your own, Mr. I-work-alone? What are you going to do then?”
“Hasn’t happened yet,” objected Damian dryly. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“Consider yourself at that proverbial bridge.” Cole got up, staring straight into his eyes without blinking in that unnerving vampire’s way. “Get moving. We’re going together.”
Damian threw his hands up but decided not to argue. Cole had always been stubborn and fighting him was pointless. It seemed like becoming a vampire had amplified this part of his personality.
“Fine,” Damian growled and turned to the cat. “Gypsy, are you coming with us?”
“Take the entire zoo, why don’t you?” murmured Cole, his eyebrows rising.
“As you’re well aware, I don’t have the other sight, and you’re a vampire. You don’t have it either,” replied Damian. “A cat’s natural sight is more powerful than any revealing spell I can cast. She can warn me if something is wrong long before I detect it.”
“Finally, you admit to the superiority of my species,” said Gypsy. She got up, stretching lazily, leaning forward and then back. “Kneel before me, peasant. We, Queens, don’t walk. We ride with a flourish.”
Damian sighed but took one knee, allowing the cat to hop on his shoulder. “Tell me everything you see,” he muttered, heading out of the kitchen, but then halted by the door, throwing a frosty glance at his brother. “And you’re going to do what I say, when I say it. Am I clear?”
“We’ll see how you behave.” Cole grinned and slapped Damian on his shoulder as he maneuvered his way around him out the door.
Dammit!
Chapter 19
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian removed the plywood carefully and placed it next to the doorway. After the last attack of the frost-monster, it was cracked, and he did everything he could not to damage it further in fear of deactivating the protective rune. He stared into the darkness of the hallway, and unease spread through him, sending shivers down his back.
“I know there is nothing I can say to change your mind,” he said to his brother with a tentative smile. “But can I ask you to keep a few paces back? At least until I make sure it’s safe?” He met Cole’s eyes and sighed. “Please?”
Cole peeked around the corner, and his eyes lit up with a bright scarlet light as the vampiric energy spiked around him. Turning to face Damian, he said, “If it makes you feel better, I will give you a couple of yards head start.” He tittered, the tips of his fangs showing slightly. “The Shadow Slayer is protecting a vampire.”
“Keep rubbing it in, little bloodsucker,” murmured Damian. “Jokes aside... if I tell you to run, you run at your full speed.”
“You’re pushing it—”
“Cole!”
“Fine, my lord and master.” He bowed, his every move dripping with sarcasm. “I shall do as you command.”
Damian grunted but didn’t add anything and headed into the hallway. Stepping softly on the carpet, he sharpened his senses to the maximum, but just like the last time, he could detect nothing. Gypsy remained calm and silent, sitting on his shoulder. He halted a few steps away from the door at the end of the hallway and raised his hand, stopping Cole.
“Cole,” he whispered, but despite his attempt at being quiet, his voice carried through the house, amplified by the weird acoustics of this place. He swallowed, feeling the hair rising on his arms. “Please do me a favor and don’t play games. Stay where you are. I’m going to check out the wards and let you know when you can come closer.”
“I don’t see or sense anything,” said Cole, wincing at the sound of his voice, echoing through the dark hallway.
“Neither do I,” murmured Damian. “But the protective magic is all around us. Trust me. Stay back.”
“Damian, I can see the runes and sigils,” Gypsy’s voice sounded in Damian’s mind. “But they are not glowing like the last time.”
“Thanks, Gypsy. Let me know if you detect any changes.” Damian took a careful step forward and glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother didn’t move. To his relief, he saw Cole leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. “Well, let’s see what’s hidden behind this door.”
Keeping in mind what happened last time when Sam tried to open the door, he sharpened his already stretched senses and carefully put his fingers on the handle. Nothing happened.
“Gypsy, did anything change?” he asked.
“No, keep going,” the cat replied, but her claws dug into his shoulder through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Throwing one more warning gaze at his brother for good measure, Damian pushed down on the door handle. It vibrated under his fingers, and the soft ping of magical energy traveled through his arm, making him suck in a sharp breath. The door opened with a light squeak, and a wave of magic enveloped him. It wasn’t the energy of protective magic. It was soft and calming, but he didn’t recognize its origin or purpose.
“Here goes nothing...” Damian murmured and carefully slipped into the room.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, the amount of magical energy stored there engulfed him. He gasped for air, struggling to breathe, and the room around him spun as he started to fall. Or at least it felt like he was falling. There was no floor, walls or ceiling. He was suspended in midair, surrounded by slowly rotating waves of the same magical energy he had detected earlier. It wasn’t black but rather ultramarine, bright blue sparkles coming closer to him and disappearing back into the spinning mass.
“What the hell?” he whispered, endeavoring to get in control of his body. For a moment, a rash of panic spiked through his mind, making his heart beat desperately in his chest, but he made an effort to suppress the panic and relax as much as he could in this situation.
He felt Gypsy move on his shoulder, pressing her soft side to his cheek, and this tiny patch of warmth gave him an unexpected boost of energy. For the first time in many years, he was glad he wasn’t alone.
“Gypsy, what is this void?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Void?” Gypsy shifted again, her long tail wrapping around his neck. “What void? You’re standing on the hard, tiled floor of a giant room.” She rubbed against his cheek gently. “Can you get your second sight back, Child of Earth? I love my mistress and without your full power, you’re a helpless kitten. You can’t save her...”
Dammit...
“Veritatius revelare,” he whispered, moving his hand in a wide arch. The constant rotation ceased, and through the layer of the powerful illusion, he could see a giant room with a tall ceiling and a tiled floor. He moved his arm again, casting the second spell. “Latentius revelare.”
The entire surface of the room—the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling—lit up with a multitude of runes and sigils. Long chains of hieroglyphs in a language he didn’t recognize appeared on the ceiling, and on the opposite wall, he saw a door. It didn’t look like a physical entity, but rather like glowing outlines, surrounded by hundreds of tiny runes.
“What is this place?” whispered Damian, staring around in awe.
He took a step forward and halted, feeling a sudden change in the magical energy flowing around him. The blue sparkles became agitated, shining brighter and moving faster. The wall started to vibrate, and the light buzzing noise of wards filled the air. Damian spun around and found Cole standing by the door. He hadn’t touched it yet, remaining about a foot away.
“Cole,” said Damian, his jaw set with fear, “back away carefully. Don’t touch anything. The wards are reacting to you.”
Cole’s eyes widened, his fangs expanding, but he lifted his hands and stepped back softly. As soon as he was away, the wards stopped buzzing.
“Time
to leave,” muttered Damian. He walked out to the hallway and waved his hand, removing his spells. Then he closed the door and turned around. “Come closer, Cole. Slowly... Don’t touch anything.”
As soon as the vampire approached him, the wards and the protection spells reacted, buzzing furiously.
“That’s strange,” murmured Damian, heading toward the foyer. “The wards reacted to you, but completely ignored me. Last time I was here with Sam, the protective magic reacted to both of us. I could feel its resistance.”
They walked out into the foyer, and Damian lowered Gypsy to the floor softly, petting her thick fur. He restored the plywood and halted, staring to the side at the silver mirror.
“Another mystery to add to my list,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then he sighed and turned to face his brother. “Do you have a few more minutes?”
Cole glanced at his wristwatch and shrugged. “I’ll be a little late, but no big deal. What did you see there?”
They moved back to the kitchen and sat down. As briefly as he could, Damian described everything he’d seen in the strange room. Cole frowned, unease lingering around him.
“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” he said, fumbling with the case of his tablet. “Have you?”
“No.” Damian rubbed his face, propping his elbows on the table. “I can’t believe it.” He lifted his head, staring somewhere above Cole’s head into space. “After all the training I received, I didn’t recognize most of those runes and sigils. There was some kind of inscription on the wall too, and I couldn’t read it. I didn’t know the language.” He slammed his hand on the table, anger and distress clawing their way through him. “Gypsy is right. Without my full power, I’m nothing. I can’t protect River.”
“Training?” asked Cole, his glowing eyes drilling through Damian. “What kind of training?”
“Irrelevant.” Damian cursed inwardly for letting it slip. “Forget about it, Cole. There is something I must do, and I need your help.”
