by Alana Melos
I stuffed my envy back under the surface with a soundless sigh. While some weird part of me had awakened and was hungry for feelings, for people, and for all the things I’d never wanted before, I knew I didn’t want them. It was a sickness. I laughed quietly at that thought. An infection of an infected mind, but it rang true to me. These things would slow me down, make me make impractical decisions. While I erred as every person did, it wasn’t because of this weakness everyone else had. I’d simply miscalculated. I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted to say pure and clean, uncorrupted by weakness.
I watched them for a few more moments without shame or embarrassment, then crept away. The energy bars I’d snagged from Ger’s apartment had run out and my stomach kept growling at me. He had to have food in this place somewhere. I’d give them their time to be alone, and then after that, we’d move.
Chapter Thirteen
I had been right about where his kitchen lay and it was pretty well stocked. I cooked myself a meal consisting of pasta with butter and a big, thick steak. If I had room left over and they still weren’t done, then I’d make a salad too out of the various vegetables I’d found in his pantry and fridge. Some people might be surprised I knew how to cook. I wasn’t a bad one either. You didn’t live on a private island with no fast food places without knowing how to make food for yourself. I had been seventeen before I’d had my first and last Big Mac. I hadn’t missed out on anything.
As I ate, I thought about a plan of attack. It didn’t matter if Rebekah came with me or not, I was going to get Ger out. I knew she’d come with me though, so as I sat and thought about a plan, I factored her in.
Finishing the last of my steak, I glanced up at movement from the corner of my eye. Alistair, fully dressed once more, walked in, stopped and frowned at me. “What?” I said. “I was hungry.”
He tsked and I rolled my eyes. “You could have made some for everyone,” he observed, sounding all superior.
“And interrupt your playtime? No thank you,” I said and he shrugged. Of course he knew I’d watched. It was his house. I doubt anything went on in here he didn’t know about. “Did you have fun?”
At the question, Alistair glanced down and to the side, then back to me. “It was… comforting,” he replied.
I raised a brow. “What is she going to think when you want to get your ass whipped?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I need a reason to keep grounded. With you, it was humility.” A grin crossed his face for a second, “Fun humility… but humility all the same.”
Leaning back in my chair, I turned to regard him more fully. “And for her? For that? How did that ‘balance’ you?”
“She’s... broken, on the inside,” he said, his voice soft. “I want to be gentle with her, show her something she’s never known.”
Scoffing loudly, I shook my head. “She tell you about--”
“Regulus, no,” he said, his brow darkening swiftly. “She didn’t have to.”
“All I’m sa… wait, she didn’t have to? You can read her mind?” I blinked, then scowled.
“I know everything in my sanctuary, given enough time, Caprice,” he said, stressing my name. My scowl darkened as his had a moment ago. “While visitors are here, they become a part of the sanctuary, more or less. When people leave, some of the knowledge stays with me. Repeat visitors… leave more and more behind.”
“Well, fuck,” I swore. I studied him and for a moment, I had the idea he would turn me over to the cops… but then I relaxed. I knew he wouldn’t, simply because he hadn’t yet. It still unnerved me that he just knew things. Damn, I hated magic.
He strode over and put his hands on the back of one of his kitchen chairs. “As for your plan--”
“Ugh, stop that!” I kept scowling at him. This changed the entire aspect of our little visits, and I wondered exactly how much power he had and how much personal knowledge of me he possessed. That he chose not to use it spoke volumes about his character. That I still doubted him spoke volumes about mine.
“I think it’ll work,” he continued smoothly. “Fast and hard, right at the edge of dawn when things are quietest, people should be at their slowest. Of course, we don’t know who the captors are, but if you are fast and stealthy, it shouldn’t matter.”
“Stay out of my head,” I growled at him. Christ, was this what it was like for the mindblind?
“I’m not in your head, you’re in mine,” he said, and I threw my hands up.
“I give up, just stop talking about it,” I snapped.
“Why are you so angry?” he asked. “Why hold on to it? It doesn’t do you any good.”
“Because it’s mine,” I said as I got up. “I know it’s mine.”
The mage shook his head, “Let it go, Caprice. Your mind is telling you it’s time for something new. Let yourself change.”
“I don’t want to change,” I huffed. “I like who I was. I don’t want all of this extra crap floating around. It’s just a weakness to exploit.”
“If you truly believe that,” he started to say, then fell silent as Rebekah poked her head in behind him.
“Hey, there you guys are,” she said, smiling brightly. She ran her fingers through her wet hair, spiking it up absently as she looked at the two of us. Was it just me or did she look a little flushed? Did her gaze stay on Alistair too long?
I focused on her, dismissing the other thoughts. They weren’t important. “I was just getting ready to come to you,” I said. “We have to go over plans if you want, boss.”
She did flush at that, her cheeks turning a deep crimson. “Don’t call me that,” the younger woman said, waving the words away. “I don’t want to be in charge. Tactics, uh, really wasn’t my thing.” Looking abashed, she handed me the piece of paper we’d been fighting for earlier. “You be in charge. I’ll take orders. It’s one thing I’m good at.” She scuffed her foot and looked down.
At that, Alistair turned and took the few steps to bridge the distance between them. He put a hand on her shoulder. At his touch, she looked up and smiled sunnily, but after spending all night with her, I was beginning to see some of her tells. The smile was too bright to be real, but the look in her eyes was all adoration.
“You’re not a soldier any more,” he told her. “You’re your own woman.”
“I’m still not good at it,” Rebekah said, looking up at him. “I’m still learning.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard,” I said, interrupting their touchy-feely moment. “Alistair, can you get us a map of the place? Even a rough layout from your hoodoo should work. Just to see where he’s kept and the exits.”
“Let’s adjourn to the sitting room,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“And what do we owe you?” I snapped, still angry with him. Knowing he’d read me, a dirty feeling had crawled into my skin and stayed there. I felt invaded, like I never had with Ger. I’d never even knew this invasion was happening. While Gerard might have tried to force me to share with him, he couldn’t go as deep as he wanted. Not yet. With him, it was a two way street, push and pull, yin and yang and all that jazz. With Alistair? I rubbed my arms absently, trying to dispel the sudden coldness in the house. How much did he know? Would I have to take care of him?
Whatever it was which let him read me, he didn’t pick up on that thought, or he didn’t think I’d go through with it. Either way, he led the two of us back to the sitting room and excused himself to fetch some blank paper. Now that we were alone, I turned to Rebekah.
“I want to hit them now, tonight, probably as soon as we can get there,” I stated. “Are you up for it?”
The Siren nodded. “I want this off,” she said, holding up the bracelet. “And I want my father back.”
“He’s not going to change,” I pointed out. “I’ve told you that.”
“And I have faith,” she replied, then stuck her tongue out at me. The gesture was so unexpected a laugh startled out of me. She grinned seeing my resp
onse. “Good! Now stop being so serious! We have this under control.”
Easy for you to say, I thought, but without any bite to it. Alistair walked in to see the two of us smiling. He smiled in response, then was nearly thrown off of his feet as the brownstone shook. “What…?” he asked of no one, shock staining his voice.
“I don’t know,” I said as I braced myself for another hit. “Maybe an earthquake?”
“It doesn’t feel like--” he began as another tremor hit. Books and knick-knacks tumbled off of the shelves.
“Something’s attacking,” Rebekah said. She stood up and rushed over to the window. I stretched out with my mind, but felt no one around me. “Oh… oh no,” she moaned, then turned around to take the both of us in at a look. “I thought this was a safe place! A sanctuary!”
“It is,” Alistair said, then dropped the rolled up paper he held to clutch his temple. “Aaah!”
I jumped to my feet. “What is it?”
The Siren gave me my answer. “It’s Oberst Richter,” she said, and pointed.
“He’s attacking the wards,” Alistair said, his handsome face paling. He glanced at me, then focused on Rebekah. “You led them here.” She blinked at the accusation and shook her head vehemently in response, but he cut her off before she could reply. “Not on purpose. Your armor, the magics enchanting them. He must have found them through the wards, somehow.” He winced again and grit his teeth against whatever psychic or magic assault he was under.
“I didn’t mean to,” she cried. “I’m sorry. We will go out and fight them.”
I joined her at the window and sure enough, he had more of his Nazi-zom-bots with him. Of course I wouldn’t be able to sense anything telepathically. Richter likely warded his thoughts as Alistair did and the dead had no minds to read.
“Don’t really relish the thought of fighting a mage,” I muttered as we watched the dead walk around, clanking in their machinery. “Not to mention those things.”
“Damn,” Alistair swore. “Damn and double damn.” He winced once more, and I saw pain etched on his face. Whatever Richter was doing outside, it was hurting him. Through the blowing snow, I saw the Nazi writing in the air leaving glowing red glyphs behind.
“So nice to see you again, Alistair,” Richter said, his voice oozing slime. I blinked a few times, but I wasn’t imagining things. His voice reverberated on the inside of the house. “Did you really think you could escape forever?”
“Jesus, does this guy know everybody? Should I be insulted?” I growled. Wait… how did he pierce the wards?
“Wait, how?” Rebekah asked, echoing my thoughts.
“He can’t hear us,” Alistair said as he moved into the entryway. We got up and followed him. “He’s projecting his voice through a crack in the ward. Taunting me.”
“You know him, right?” I asked. “Are you from… wait, there’s no way.” I shook my head and crossed my arms in a strong negative gesture. “There’s no damn way you’re from Axis.” When I said those words, I thought twice. He could have been one of the mages who had fled lest they be exterminated.
The handsome mage shook his head and we heard Richter’s voice once more. The entire house shook with it and the shadows grew deeper as he spoke. “So many prizes to be found here, so many trophies to be brought back home.”
Alistair bared his teeth in a silent snarl, opening up his library doors and striding inside. Rebekah and I exchanged a glance and followed. There, he put on a long coat and started stuffing items inside: a wand, a knife, some crystals, vials of unknown liquids. The grim look on his face told me he was preparing for war.
“Alistair,” Rebekah said. “Do you know him? I don’t understand.”
“One of the leaders of the Occulten Miliz,” he said. “A necromancer, and a very powerful one. He followed in the footsteps of Frankenstein, reanima--”
“Now you have got to be kidding,” I interrupted. “Frankenstein? Like the movie?” Somehow I didn’t think he meant the Mel Brooks one either.
Alistair paused in his rummaging to give me a scornful look. “Like the book, Caprice. Open one once in awhile.” The house shuddered and he groaned, rocking forward as if he was going to keel over. Rebekah stepped forward as he planted a hand on his desk, steadying himself. She wrapped her arm around him and helped him to stand straight, worry filling her eyes. “As I was saying,” he continued. “He reanimates the dead, using them as mindless servants and killing machines. I’m told he was the one who decided to augment them with machinery, a mad experiment which worked all too well.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Richter’s voice boomed around us, louder than before. “Do you think these wards will keep me out? Clever using a junction, Alistair, but you know I can use that same power too.”
“Junction?” Rebekah said.
Alistair glanced to he, and patted the hand holding him before pulling away. He rifled through his desk. “Everyone out,” he said as he finished. Rebekah and I hustled out, hurried by Alistair. Once we were outside the library, he turned and closed the doors behind him. “A junction is a shorthand for a conjunction of ley lines. There’s a few in Imperial City. It cost me much to purchase this one.”
“Power, right?” I asked, not completely ignorant of the magic world, though I hated it so. “But you both can draw power from it?”
He nodded. “It’ll make this a much closer match than I would have liked.”
“We’ll fight with you,” Rebekah said.
The house trembled again and this time, I felt the breath of the cold outside whisper through the house. “No,” he said. “It’s too dangerous. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself, and I would have to spend energies to protect you both. Better for you to flee.”
“Man’s right,” I said. I wasn’t going to argue with him: she had no powers and I was not in my best form.
“No, we’ll stay,” she said, pulling on the sleeve of his coat. “The monsters, the zombies, we can take them out.”
“No place to run and hide, Alistair,” Richter taunted from outside, his voice much, much louder. The wards had to be failing. “Give me the girls, and I’ll leave you alone… this time. We both know you won’t raise a finger to fight me… and I’ve made sure you cannot teleport out.”
Alistair shook his head, glancing at the two of us. He turned his back and started to trace sigils in the air. The ghostly green light his fingers left behind as they worked illuminated his face, making him look half dead.
“How do you know him?” I asked. “He seems to enjoy taunting you.”
“He was the lead on the invasion of my dimension,” Alistair replied.
“So you’re not from Axis?” I asked. Rebekah let go of his arm so as not to impede him and moved over to the window, her eyes glued to the creatures outside.
Shaking his head, he closed the doors to his library and began to draw sigils in the air. “No, not from Axis,” he said. “Pax Romana, you wouldn’t have heard of it.”
“Pax… you’re Roman?” I said, completely confused. I glanced behind me at the door, halfway expecting it to blow open at any second. Instead of taking the time to taunt Alistair, I heard their leader chanting, his voice echoing hollowly through the room.
“Not Roman, I’m English, but…” Alistair continued to draw, his face grimacing from pain. The glowing sigils squirmed as he wrote, hurting my eyes when I looked directly at them. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say it doesn’t exist anymore. We chose to destroy our home lest it fall into their hands.”
“You destroyed…?” I had too many questions and not enough time. The wind outside picked up and I heard the drills running, the metal bits clashing together. Lights inside Alistair’s sanctuary flickered and the entire air hummed as if I was standing too close to a power line.
“A peaceful place,” he said, finishing his drawing and stepping back to look at his handiwork. “Advanced, peaceful… and rich in occult energies. It was one of the first dimensions they i
nvaded. When we saw they were draining the world’s energies, stealing our artifacts, weakening us… we couldn’t allow it. Better to die than to be a slave.” He glanced sideways at me, his mouth twisting bitterly, “It never occurred to us to fight, Caprice. That’s how benign my world was. It was never even up for discussion.” He looked back to the glowing scribbles. Making a delicate gesture with his hand, he said something in Latin that I didn’t know and the doors disappeared… along with his library. An empty spot stood in the house now and the snow fell down the hole to melt on the cement foundation of the brownstone. There one second, gone the next.
“I thought he said you couldn’t teleport,” I said. “Get us out of here before he breaks through!”
Alistair shook his head. “I sent my library to an extra dimensional space,” he said, frowning deeply. “Pre-prepared spell, no way he could counter it. There’s too much information, too many artifacts I won’t allow into enemy hands.”
A heartbeat later, the house shuddered. “Wards are down,” he said, shuddering with his home. When he turned around to face the front door, he had changed. A brand ran over the right half of his face, a twisting design which grew and spread as I watched. The scars were blackened flesh, making a crazy pattern as they curled around his eye, disappeared up into his hairline, alongside the side of his nose, and withered at the corner of his jaw and lips. The scarring didn’t stop there, but crept down his neck like a malevolent vine, twisting and turning as it blackened his skin in streaks and then disappeared under his clothing. The cloth undulated and misty black energy rose from him in the shape of tentacles, mostly centering around his hands and back, but they seemed to pop in and out of existence anywhere and everywhere. His hands became twisted and scaled with the thick black brand over almost all of his right. They looked so bad I couldn’t believe he could use them to do anything at all, much less the graceful gestures he performed when doing his magic. His normally pleasant and clear eyes clouded over with repressed emotion.
