by J. C. Diem
Death Betrays
J.C. Diem
Copyright 2013 J.C. Diem
All rights reserved.
Amazon Kindle Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied, resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.
Cover art: J.C. Diem
Images: ©Veronika Vasilyuk - Dreamstime.com
©Lio2012 - Dreamstime.com
Dedication
To Carolyn and Elizabeth – thank you for editing and proofreading my novels. Without your invaluable help, they would no doubt be riddled with typos.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter One
Surrounded by a moat of filthy water, I was almost glad I no longer had the ability or need to breathe. The ground beneath my boots was brown from more than just dirt. Various tide lines, demarcated by human waste in various stages of decay, indicated how high the water could reach.
This wasn’t the first sewer I’d descended into since becoming the undead but it was by far the most putrid. I wasn’t alone in my disgust. Both my kin and the humans wrinkled their noses at the stench. We’d been too busy fighting our common enemy to pay much attention to the unlovely atmosphere. We couldn’t help but notice it now that the battle was over.
It was still an adjustment to see vampires and humans working together. There were wounded on both sides but we undead tended to heal from even the most grievous of injuries fairly quickly. The injured American and African soldiers were being tended to by medics from both armies. Able bodied men had just been given the go ahead to carry their comrades out of the damp, disgusting tunnels and up to the surface.
Anyone who hadn’t been in the thick of battle might have wondered where the bodies of our enemies were. Clothing and weapons were all that remained of the fledgling vampires that we had slain. Although almost everyone in the entire world was now aware that vampires existed, it still wasn’t common knowledge that we turned to slimy puddles when our unnatural lives came to an end.
Speaking of slime, I was covered from head to toe in the black ooze of the fallen. I desperately wanted to peel off my clothes, take a shower and wash the clumps of goo out of my hair. Straggling to halfway down my back, my hair was usually brown with blonde highlights but right now it almost defied description.
Only minutes ago my friends and I, with the help of several thousand soldiers, had defeated an army of fledgling vampires. If we hadn’t teamed up together to eradicate the ravenous newly-made monsters, they would have spread quickly. Eventually, they would have overwhelmed the entire continent. In a few short months they would have become a threat to the entire human race.
Bending to snatch up a scrap of relatively clean cloth, my pasty white skin peeked out through the rips in my black leather suit. I’d been cut in half by unfriendly gunfire the instant I’d left the safety of the tunnels and had entered the centre of the sewers. As always, I’d managed to heal without any visible sign that I’d been injured.
The suit hadn’t been so lucky and it was now a write off. Luckily, I still had a couple of backup suits left. After our recent falling out, I doubted Emperor Ishida would be gifting me with any further replacements of the outfits. Ruler of the Japanese vampire nation, Ishida was still smarting that I had pulled rank on him. He had temporarily been downgraded from being in charge to being just another member of our team.
Luc slid a hand around my waist when Ishida’s gaze moved across me as if I were invisible. My one true love’s other arm lay in a sling. He was still healing from an injury he had sustained during the battle. His sympathy for my anguish was silent yet comforting.
“You’d think the Emperor would be grateful to you for saving his life, chérie,” Geordie said softly. Waiting for me to use the scrap of cloth to wipe my face, he linked his arm through mine, offering me physical as well as emotional support.
Ishida had come very close to being blown apart by the panicked soldiers when they had moved in to cut down the last of the fledglings. I had risked being blown apart to pluck the emperor from danger and move him to safety. During the four months I’d spent on his island learning their way of sword fighting, we’d come as close as it was possible for a mere commoner and an emperor to becoming friends. I’d ruined our chances of continued friendship after declaring myself as the overall leader of the vampires during the fledgling uprising. My Japanese kin were touchy about their honour and I had pretty much trampled their emperor’s pride into the ground.
Why does being Mortis have to suck so much? I was careful to keep my complaint to myself and didn’t want to embarrass myself by voicing it out loud. Sure, being a legend of dread had a few perks, such as the inability to die, added strength, speed and phenomenal healing abilities. But it also had many downsides. It wasn’t much fun being the strangest monster on the planet.
“Emperor Ishida’s pride has been wounded,” Gregor said. He was still growing one of his cheeks back after having half of his face shot off. It was hard not to stare at his wound as he offered his insight. His tongue was visible through the hole in his cheek, which made my stomach try to lurch. “He has been a king for ten thousand years,” he continued. “It would not be easy to adjust to following someone else’s lead after ruling for so long.”
Somewhere over three thousand years old, Gregor was easily the most diplomatic member of our small group. His usually natty tweed suit was stained with sewerage, human blood and vampire ooze. He flicked his hair back from his face in a habitual gesture. Dark blonde, his hair was now badly in need of a wash.
Igor, Russian, fifteen thousand years old and far too grizzled to ever be called handsome, made an impatient gesture. “They will have the time to mend their relationship once this is all over. For now, we still have a job to do.”
Geordie and I grimaced at the reminder. Our unhappy frowns were nearly identical and the teen cracked a smile. He’d been fifteen when turned and was still young enough to have a faint ring of blue showing in his eyes. In another hundred years or so, when he was the ripe old age of three hundred, his pupils would grow to their maximum size and the colour would disappear entirely. His hair was a shade of blonde that always looked like it needed washing. It currently hung in clumps around his face, much like mine did. “I guess this means the Emperor won’t be teaching me how to play any zombie games now,” he said sadly. Ishida had invited Geordie to visit his island shortly before our relationship had abruptly soured.
“Probably not,” I confirmed. Not unless we could somehow fix things between us and I didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon. Like Igor said, we had a job to do and it was more important than repairing ou
r shattered friendship.
Colonel Sanderson broke off his discussion with General Merwe and approached us. Both men were in charge of the armies that we had so recently teamed up with. As the head of all the remaining eighty or so vampires, I was the one they addressed. It may have been my decision but I was still getting used to the idea of being in charge. “A hotel has been cordoned off for your use if you’d like to get cleaned up,” Sanderson informed me. “There’s not a lot more we can do tonight, unless you have an idea where the Second is heading.” Tall thin and blonde, Sanderson had lost weight since we had first met in Russia. He would be under a lot of pressure from his government to prevent his kind from being turned into cattle.
I shook my head at his hopeful tone. “He’s moved out of my range and I’m not sure where he is going. Have your men started hunting down the caches of vampires that were left behind yet?”
General Merwe stepped in to answer me. “They are in position and will shortly be starting from both ends with the intention of meeting up in the middle.” Shorter and stockier than his counterpart, Merwe’s skin was very dark and his accent hard for me to understand. We had saved the vast bulk of his people from death and from being turned into slaves but I doubted he would ever trust any of our kind.
Our encounter with the being known as the Second and his rapidly growing army of fledglings had begun somewhere in the jungles to the south and had ended up towards the north of Africa. The Second and his fellow disciples had left caches of drained humans in their wake and they would soon be rising to feast on unwary villagers. At my suggestion, the American colonel had sent for special equipment that could detect bodies that had been buried beneath the ground. His troops would find any vampires that had yet to rise, if the equipment arrived in time. Otherwise we would have to wait for the new vamps to dig their way out of their graves before we could cut them down. We all knew how important it was to eradicate them before they could begin to infect others.
In a way, I was responsible for this entire calamity. Ten ancient vampires had been set free after I’d taken down their master, who had called himself the First. Out of the ten disciples, the Second, as he had liked to style himself, was the largest threat.
The second vampire to ever be created, he was fifty thousand years old but he and his elderly kin had spent the last forty thousand years banished beneath the ground. That had been their punishment for plotting to kill their master. The Second was now making up for lost time, feeding both his blood and flesh hungers to regain his strength. His goal was straight out of a cheesy horror movie; he wanted to create a vast army of vampire slaves and take over the world. We had destroyed all nine of his fellow disciples and now he was the only one left. Unfortunately, he was the smartest, most devious and by far the most ambitious of the group. He had been one step ahead of us since we’d landed in Africa just over two weeks ago.
Gregor shattered my silent musings by accepting the colonel’s offer to clean up. “I for one would be delighted to take my leave of this sewer.”
Cold, filthy water sloshed inside my calf high boots. I didn’t even want to know what was squishing between my toes. The boots would never be the same again after our journey beneath the African city. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, grimacing again at the smell of death and human waste that coated not just me but everyone who had descended beneath the ground to participate in the battle.
Sanderson nodded at one of his men. Stepping forward nervously, the soldier took a quick peek at my face before dropping his eyes. “Come with me, please.” He led the way from the large open space where we had congregated to battle our enemy. In a straggling line, we trooped towards one of the many tunnels that would take us back up to the surface. From the frequent looks our guide gave us, he didn’t like having us at his back. Our alliance with the humans had been an uneasy one from the start. Neither side particularly trusted the other yet we would have to continue to work together until the Second was dead and the threat has been neutralized.
Despite killing thousands of fledglings, our job still wasn’t done. The humans knew our worth and how vital it was to remain in our good books. Hundreds of soldiers had been injured during the battle and hundreds more were dead. Each person that had survived would have to be watched to make sure they didn’t turn into a new batch of fledgling vamps. The disciple’s blood was far more virulent than a modern day vampire’s. It only took one taste to transform humans into the undead. Unfortunately, their servant’s blood was just as virulent. They had the ability to create more of our kind far too quickly. Nowadays it took three infusions of blood over three nights to turn a human into one of us.
As we slogged through the tunnels, I ran through what I knew about the origin of our species. Apparently, an alien had crash landed on Earth a long, long time ago. It had been something of a demi-god with the ability to live for an unusually long time. According to Kokoro’s visions, it had had to wait for millions of years for humans to evolve to a certain level of intelligence before it could unleash its diseased blood on us.
The First had been chosen to be the receptacle for the infusion of tainted blood. He had turned into the first vampire and had set off a chain of events that would eventually doom our kind. Over the millennia, his blood had transformed him into a grey skinned, red eyed, eight foot tall clone of the alien. The tainted fluid that clogged his veins had a different effect on the generations of vampires that had originated from his servants. Their shadows had become sentient and eventually gained the ability to take possession of their hosts.
Drawing his offspring to him by some sort of mental siren song, the First only had to utter a single word to transform his offspring into even stranger monsters. Their shadows had been sucked inside their vampire bodies and new imp bodies had sprung forth. I’d seen this happen in a dream and with my own eyes and it was far more disturbing than I could ever adequately describe.
By the dubious luck of being Mortis, my shadow hadn’t taken possession of me when the First had commanded it to when I had been drawn to him in a vision. Instead, I’d briefly had four shadows trailing around after me. That had been a disconcerting side effect of being fed the blood of four different vampires. When I’d been forced to ingest the blood of four imps, I’d even more briefly had four imp shadows added to my collection. Thankfully, I was back to having a single non-sentient shadow again, which was a tale all of its own. My real shadows had sneakily murdered the imp shadows before then turning on each other. Two of them had killed a third then I had used my holy marks to destroy one and had torn the other one free from my body. My original shadow had been the only one left and it had been too lazy to be interested in possessing me. After I had killed the First, my shadow had thankfully returned to normal, as had all of the other sentient shadows.
A couple of prophecies had been written about me long before I’d been turned into the undead. Both spelled out the purpose that I had been meant to serve. They foretold that I would be the bane of our kind. I was supposed to go on a global vampire killing spree and only a remnant of our species would survive the carnage.
Contrary to the prophecy, the decimation of our kind hadn’t quite happened that way. Apart from the three hundred damned that I’d culled from Ishida’s warriors, I’d barely killed any of my kin so far. The First had begun calling in any vampires who were possessed by their shadows before I could start thinning down the Europeans. Most of them had been turned into imps as soon as they’d stepped foot in his cavern of doom.
Colonel Sanderson and his men had been instrumental in helping me to eradicate the imp horde inside the cavern. The prophecy had indeed been correct about our numbers drastically being whittled down. To my knowledge, there were now very few vampires left at all. Apart from our group, the remaining Court members and Ishida’s warriors in Japan, there were only small pockets of our kind left scattered around the world.
I’d hoped that killing the First would put an end to the prophecies but fate had another plan all
lined up for us. We still had to hunt the Second down and no doubt we would lose more of our forces along the way.
Gregor had formed a theory about the fate that was intended for us. Despite how disturbing I found his theory to be, I was leaning towards believing it. He thought our kind was an anomaly that shouldn’t exist at all. The alien should never have landed on Earth and created the First. Gregor believed that fate, destiny or whatever it was that was ultimately in charge of all life was trying to undo the mistake it had made by allowing us to be created. Its solution was to wipe us out of existence. So far, we’d kept this theory just between the two of us. Kokoro, as a prophetess, had been given a message that didn’t bode well for the few of us who remained. Blind from the moment she had been turned, when she closed her eyes, she usually saw visions of the future. From the moment the ten disciples rose from their banishment, she had seen only death and darkness for us. I’d been inside her vision and had seen for myself just how dismal our future was going to be.
Climbing to the top of the rusty ladder, I hid my unease behind a smile as Luc offered me his uninjured hand to help me to the surface. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to us and that it was going to happen soon.
It had already been proven fairly conclusively, not to mention frequently, that nothing could kill me. If I lost Luc and the rest of my friends, would I go on for an eternity all alone? A chill raced down my spine as my inner voice roused itself to offer a reply. You’re one of a kind, remember? Eventually, your friends will die but you won’t. Not ever. How else do you think this can possibly end other than you living for an eternity all alone? Instead of being cuttingly sarcastic, this time my subconscious sounded full of pity. Somehow, that was far worse.
Chapter Two
We followed the nervous soldier across the road to a jumbled heap of baggage that turned out to be our belongings. Spying my backpack, I snagged it from the edge of the pile. My friends sorted through the heap until they found their own gear. A quick check told me the spare pairs of black leather suits were still inside. Thankfully, so was the extra pair of boots.
