The Destroyers all bowed in unison. “We are our brothers’ keepers.”
Gyth stood tall and strong, an unbendable oak tree with centuries of pain in his golden eyes. “Feverand’s son, Eli, will be joining us once more.”
Varick sat up, and his jaw twitched as Eli Dark appeared in front of the chair that had been empty for thirty years. Eli’s short black hair, square jaw, aristocratic nose, and dark, dauntless eyes reminded Varick of Feverand; the resemblance was uncanny.
Eli bowed and took his seat. The hint of defiance was smoldering in his eyes as he exchanged an odd glare with Gyth. Something was amiss; Varick could feel it in his bones.
Gyth narrowed his eyes. “The time draws near when we will need to stand as one against the demon hordes once more. This sanctuary will be manned at all times, the streets combed every night. The vampires have tripled their numbers as have the witches and werewolves.”
A chill went down Varick’s spine as Gyth stared him in the eyes. “They have begun to congregate together, drawing more and more humans into their clutches. Members of the One Race are now at an all-time high risk. They must be protected at all costs.”
A few grunts and growls erupted from the table. Varick stood, looked down the table at the Destroyers. “A few nights ago, I found a small group of vampires huddled in the park on Hillsboro Avenue. They had captured a member of the One Race, before his Burning. He was dead when I got there.
“That park is close to one of many sanctuaries that my father built after I was born. I don’t know how they found it but they have. Everyone who lives there is a member of the One Race.” Eli leaned on his elbows. “One Race sanctuaries all over the world are being targeted. They are picking members of the One Race off like flies while they’re still human.”
They had fought the demons for centuries — that would never change — but why would their enemies change tactics now?
Alexander stood as Gyth vanished. He and several of the other Destroyers gathered at the head of the table. Each one of them were like Alexander, they gave a motley little crew their orders.
Many of the Destroyers dematerialized, not a word spoken from them. Varick stood, following Eli and Apoc into another room. Legs that felt like rubber carried him to a chair to the left. Memories danced in and out of his mind. A shaky hand ran down his face, a little reminder of the beast under his skin.
Varick stared at the flames in the fireplace. Eli laughed and joked as Apoc retold the many stories of the last thirty years. Several of the Destroyers filled the room with their broad shoulders and deep voices. Their black trench coats were slung over the backs of the chairs and they appeared perfectly at ease as they talked with Eli. As if he had never really been gone. Three decades had passed, and yet it seemed like only yesterday.
“Kreach reached over his head and swung his axe with the gusto of a god, and the handle slipped and came flinging backwards at Alexander. The blade sliced the sapling next to Alexander in half. I lost it. Gods, I laughed so hard I fell to my knees, earning a nice punch to my brain from the blasted beast in front of me. The werewolves that had us surrounded were confused as hell by our loud laughter.” Apoc grinned as he told the story.
“What the hell did poor old Kreach do?” Eli chuckled as he ran his hand over his chest. “I would have loved to have seen the look on his face.”
Apoc slapped his leg and made a long “O” shape with his mouth. “It was hilarious. Kreach looked like he had been slapped in the face.”
Eli grinned. “Damn, I’ve missed this shit.”
“It’s good to see you, Eli. It’s high time you came back home.” Varick grimaced as pain twisted his insides.
“I won’t be staying.” Eli stared at Varick. “That beast of yours is wanting out.”
“He is none of your concern. And don’t go getting into my shit, my brother, or I’ll slit your damn throat.”
“Go to hell, Varick Ta Farg.”
Varick grinned, trying not to reveal the pain coursing through his body. “I’ve already been there. Great place to visit.” He stood, took a set toward Eli. “Where the hell have you been?”
Eli tossed a black orb to Varick. Varick caught it and gritted his teeth; the sweet stench of vampire filled his nostrils. He stared at the orb, his insides jerking as a slow burn developed in the pit of his stomach.
The vampire token pulsed, a low, steady beat. Inside the orb sparks of light swirled, dimmed, and swirled again. This token contained a soul.
Varick grabbed the back of a chair, suddenly unsteady on his feet. “Is it the one who … ”
Eli answered, “Yes.”
“Are you sure it’s the one?” Varick asked as he rolled the orb around in his palm.
A snarl appeared on Eli’s face. “That’s the one who killed my mother. The other one, the one that killed my father escaped. I hunted for years and have never found him. Not one goddamn trace of the bastard.”
Varick bowed his head, feeling Eli’s pain. There was only one way to release a soul from the token of a vampire, and Varick was all too well aware of what it entailed.
Damn, sometimes he hated his job. Varick swallowed hard as he placed the orb in his pocket. He knew he wasn’t strong enough in his present condition to release her soul, at least not without releasing the beast.
Varick shook his head and reached for his jacket. “She has waited for thirty years. A few more days isn’t going to hurt.”
Menace swirled around Eli. “Damn it, Varick. She was my mother. She died in my arms with my sister still in her womb.”
Varick’s eyes flamed. “A few more days!”
“Sister? What sister?” Apoc grabbed Eli’s shoulder.
“Every day that passes she suffers. Free her,” Eli pleaded as he grabbed Varick’s arm. “Free her soul. Let my mother have the peace she deserves.”
Varick’s hands trembled as the beast inside clawed at his skin. His back twisted, and pain shot up through the muscles in his neck. Eli and Apoc stepped back as black flames burst from Varick’s arm.
Varick bared his fangs as his legs grew weak. Apoc rushed to his side and grabbed his other arm. Varick jerked away, and the flame went up to his shoulder as he fell to his knees.
The voice he heard as he spoke was dark, twisted, not his own. “Don’t touch me.”
The Destroyers watched as the black flame engulfed his body. His scream split into their minds like hot needles. They all groaned as the weight of Varick’s predicament slammed into their chests.
Varick forced the beast to be calm, and the flame slowly died. Steam rolled from his body as he pulled himself to his feet. He was losing control, and he was well aware of it. He turned to Apoc and fell forward, his body heavy and his limbs refusing to acknowledge orders from his brain.
• • •
Apoc caught him as Varick fell. He knew Varick was stubborn as hell, but this was going too far. He picked the brute up and slung him over his shoulder grunting under his weight. If Varick didn’t mate soon, he would go insane as the beast within him consumed his soul.
“Stubborn son of a bitch!” Apoc turned to Eli. “Pray he lives through this!”
Eli glared at Varick. “If he lives through this, I’ll take his head if he doesn’t release my mother.”
Apoc’s face twisted into a battle-ready grin. “Know that you must face me as well if you want him dead.”
Eli stepped forward. “It’ll be a pleasure to put you bastards in your places. You’ve been around so long; you’ve begun to think you’re indestructible.”
Apoc’s laughter filled the room. “Feverand’s son is as bold as he was. Put your balls of steel back in your pants before someone melts them.”
Eli grabbed his jacket and headed for the door as Varick twisted in agony. Eli placed his hand on Apoc’s shoulder. “Has he
chosen someone?”
Apoc shook his head. “I’m not sure. He’s been seeing a woman at Tortured Souls. A waitress.”
“Then maybe you should have a talk with her and let her know what’s going on,” Eli offered.
“Varick wouldn’t want it that way.”
Eli opened the door and replied, “By the look of him, he’s going to need an angel.”
“Aye, ’tis true,” Apoc whispered as Eli shut the door behind him. “’Tis true.”
Chapter 18
Varick felt like someone had put a double barreled shotgun to his head and had squeezed the trigger. Sitting up on the leather couch, he groaned as someone entered the room and slammed the door. The sound sent splinters through his head.
Cracking his lids open, he watched Alexander prowl around the room. Apoc stood in the far corner, his face unreadable. They both kept looking over at him, waiting for him to speak. They wanted an explanation. Varick wasn’t sure if they were angry, worried, or fearful of his current state of mind. He would guess all three.
“I want you to take care of this problem. Immediately.” Alexander’s voice boomed around the room. “We’ve got enough shit to deal with without you being stubborn and out of commission.”
Solved that question, Alexander was angry. He paced back and forth in front of Varick like a great lion waiting to pounce on its prey.
“I’m fine.” The lie fell from his lips as he broke out in a cold sweat.
“Yeah,” Alexander replied. “As fine as two Mac trucks colliding at a hundred miles an hour. Look at yourself.”
Varick looked down, smoothed his black shirt down with shaky fingers. “I’ve got it covered.”
“You call this covered?” Alexander sat in the chair across from the couch. His face was tight, hard angles jutting out his chin. “What’s going to happen when that beast comes rampaging out and you’re surrounded by innocent people?”
“That’s not going to happen.” Varick stood. “I won’t let it.”
Varick went over to the fireplace, grabbed the bottle of 10 Cane and a glass from the mantle. It wasn’t his favorite but he poured himself a double shot of the rum and swallowed hard.
Alexander stood, took the bottle and slammed it into the fireplace. Glass shattered, tiny bits flying across Varick’s boots. The Destroyer grabbed Varick by the lapels of his shirt, got up close and personal.
“Back off, Alexander.” Varick held his ground. “What’s going on with me isn’t your business. How I handle the Mating Rite is no concern of yours or anyone else’s.”
“You do what you need to do or I’ll take you off duty.” Alexander shoved Varick backwards, menace flowing from his body. “I don’t want to be the one that has to hunt you down if that beast isn’t put on a leash but damn you, I will.”
“My beast would devour you.” Varick looked down into the empty glass, wished he had more rum or vodka. If he wasn’t killing something, alcohol kept the edge off, kept his beast calm. “You want a piece of me? There’s no sense in waiting, come get it.”
“Stop this,” Apoc roared as he stepped between Alexander and Varick. “Save this fight for our enemies.”
With a roar, Varick turned to mist.
He went to his chambers, materializing in front of his bed. Angelica was sleeping, her face relaxed. His muscles loosened, the ache in his head slowly disappearing as he stood there and watched her breathe.
• • •
Charon appeared in Zena’s chambers as she slumbered in her bed of black silk. His black robes swirled at his feet as he stepped over the minions littered on the black marble floor. When he lifted the hood from his face, the skeletal bones filled with blood, veins wrapping around tendons as flesh filled the contours. His curled lip twitched as he stood over her bed, and his red eyes glowed with fury.
This one, this Zena, was the one who had dared to use the River Styx. He gripped his scythe and ran his knuckles along her cheek. Closing his eyes, he searched for her weaknesses. Grinning, he opened his eyes and wrapped his fingers around her throat.
Zena came awake gasping for breath and staring into a set of glowing red eyes. She grabbed at the hand at her throat and struggled wildly against his hold. As she felt her brain shutting down from lack of oxygen, she ran her hand under her pillows and pulled out the dagger she kept within her reach. Blindly, she stabbed at his chest, the blade embedding deep within his body.
“Fear plays mind games with you.” He released her throat.
Strangling her wouldn’t kill her, but he enjoyed catching her off guard. Enjoyed it in the sense of how cats enjoyed tantalizing mice.
He laughed and shoved his robes aside to look down at the useless piece of metal protruding from his stomach. “You can’t kill what is dead already.”
He released her throat and pulled the dagger out, flinging it across the room. It sank into the marble wall up to the hilt. She scrambled up the bed and hissed fearfully as he reached for her ankle. She jerked her legs up and gasped as a bony hand dragged her back down the bed and into his clutches.
He laughed, his face going transparent and his skull gleaming in the purple glow. “You owe me for using the River Styx, and I have come to collect.”
She tried to call out to her minions, and again he laughed. “As long as you are indebted to me, I can take your soul.”
“Impossible. No god can do such a thing.” She tried to jerk away. “The only god that can is … ” She swallowed. “Charon.”
He watched her face drain of color.
“I want your soul or your payment.” He bowed slightly as she tried to use her powers. Her muttered curse added to his pleasure.
“I owe no ferry. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She whispered it because she couldn’t scream.
“No?” His face filled with flesh, and his lip curled. “You traveled through Styx. And I always collect what is owed to me.”
As his hands wrapped around her wrists and pulled her to her feet, she jerked away. “What do you want from me?”
Her eyes narrowed as he vanished into thin air. She gasped as he appeared behind her with one arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand appeared on her shoulder, a long, silver chain dangling from his fingers.
“If you want to use the River Styx again, I have a bargain for you.” He smelled her hair, memorizing her scent. “Upon this chain, from your body, you’ll bind one hair, one tear, and one given word.”
Fury clawed at her. “I will not do any such thing!”
Charon’s face twisted, his eyes turning black and empty. “You will.” Grabbing her hair, he hauled her to her feet and slammed her into the wall. “Body, flesh of yours. Blood, power of yours. Soul, power of the gods.”
With his scythe at her throat, she hissed and tried to sidestep him. The blade cut into her flesh, and she roared with pain.
“I know all your secrets, Zena. I know you’re still very much the virgin even though you had a child.” He laughed as her eyes widened. “I know you covet your virginity. The reason you have never lain with a man is because part of your powers will be transferred from you to the one who takes that precious virginity.”
Tears of blood streaked her cheeks as he leaned closer and kissed her lips. “You’ll give your virginity to whomever I choose, or I’ll take something far more precious from you.”
“I have nothing else that I hold dear.” She turned her face away as he slid his fingers down her arms and pulled the robes from her body.
“Oh, but you do, little innocent Zena. One day you’ll hold him so close to your heart that his happiness will be the blood that pumps through your veins. He is his father made over. Unfortunately” — he gazed at her ample flesh — “he did not take after his mother in looks, or his grandmother, for that matter.”
She shook with rage
as his hands moved over her stomach and curled around her untouched breasts. “Stop it!”
“One hair, one tear.” Charon’s hands drifted up her chest and cupped her face, bringing her eyes to look into his. “Your given word. Or I shall take your soul and his too.”
He released her slowly and stepped back as she reached for her robes and pulled them over her body. He let the chain hang from his fingers, dangling in front of her face.
“Your soul or your given word. Your choice.” His mouth opened, a dark spinning vortex opening behind him. The screams of lost souls echoing in the emptiness the vortex contained.
She slid down the wall, her fear widening her eyes. “Why have you come back after all this time?”
His laughter echoed around her chambers. “I had a wake up call.”
Slowly, she plucked a hair, ran it through her tears, and reached out to the chain. With shaking fingers, she laid the hair over the chain. “I give you my word.”
“All these years, that wonderful body has been untouched. Such a pity.” His laughter echoed in her mind as he vanished.
Chapter 19
Angelica awoke abruptly and sat up. She was completely surrounded in darkness. Clutching at the sheet in her hand, she brought it to her chest. Disorientation flooded her, fear grasping at her mind.
Her heart stopped as her hand came into contact with warm, hard skin. Maybe he had passed out; after all, he had been drinking. His arm twitched, and he rolled over. She jerked her hand away and slowly eased her body off the left side of the bed.
Frantically, she recalled how she had reacted to his touch. She could make her escape while he slept if she could find the door in the dark. She stood and put her hands out in front of her. She took a step and realized she was standing on the softest carpet she had ever walked on. Taking another step, she grabbed her mouth as her toe came into contact with a very hard, unforgiving surface.
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