Tricked

by Kevin Hearne

  “Are they older and stronger than you?”

  “Not older,” he scoffed. “They are all less than a half century old. I am not sure whether I can match them in strength or not, considering my condition. But they are all spending large sums of money on permanent residences. I fear that when I am fully recovered, I will face a flat-out refusal to leave.”

  “Fine, Leif. That’s when you throw down and kick his ass.”

  He regarded me silently and drummed his fingers a few times on the table before saying, “You are being obtuse. I cannot kill my creator.”

  Granuaile frowned and broke in. “Pardon me for asking, but why not?”

  Leif shifted his uneven eyes to study her. “It is a form of control vampires never relinquish over those to whom they grant undeath. He can command me to do most anything, and I must obey. It is similar to when I charm a human.”

  “Wow,” I said. “I honestly didn’t know that, Leif. Never cared much about the social lives of vampires. The situation is regrettable, but I guess you need to find a new territory. Good luck with that.”

  Leif’s eyes returned to me. “I was rather hoping for more than your good wishes, Atticus.”

  “What more do you want?” I smirked at him and gestured at the untouched glass the waitress had dropped off in the midst of our conversation. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you that glass of water.”

  Leif did not appreciate my teasing. He said in a stone-cold voice, “I want your help in removing Zdenik from my territory.”

  My easy grin disappeared. “No way. That’s not rational, Leif. There’s nothing in it for me, and as far as I can see, there’s nothing in it for you either. Don’t you remember that talk we had in Siberia? You told me you came to Arizona to wait for me, all so that you could befriend me and secure my aid in your vendetta against Thor. Well, you’ve done that now: You’ve befriended me, Thor is dead, you’ve got your revenge, and there’s no need to stay here anymore. You’re still a badass, or you will be again very soon. You can take over any other territory in the states you wish, no sweat, and let Zdenik have this place. Hell, I bet you can take over a small country. Costa Rica is beautiful, why don’t you go there?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “And I’m fine with that, Leif! Perhaps you don’t understand that I don’t owe you anything. If anything, you owe me. Not only did I discharge my debt to you, I put your head back together and hauled you out of Asgard. You wouldn’t be here talking to me now if I hadn’t done that.”

  “I am both aware and grateful. Please allow me to explain.”

  “It would save time if I just told you ‘no’ now and took the explanation for granted.”

  Leif leaned forward and jabbed a finger at me, his lip curling in a Billy Idol snarl. “This state can support sixty-five vampires, under the Accords of Rome.” Ah, what a delicious slip he made right there. This is the benefit of getting people annoyed with you: They say things they wouldn’t normally say. I’d never been able to get Leif to admit before that vampires controlled their population, but now he’d gone and done it—and the ratio, based on that number in relation to Arizona’s population, was one vampire per one hundred thousand people. It also told me Rome was the capital of the vampire world, as I always suspected.

  Leif continued, “But I have been the only vampire here for centuries. This is practically virgin hunting ground. There are flavors and nuances of blood here that no one has sampled save me. These people … they taste of the sun. That makes the territory incredibly valuable on its own, Atticus. But add to that the prestige of taking it from me, and it is even better. Plus that group of Kabbalists called the Hammers of God have managed to stake a few of us, so that increases the challenge, and when you add in the news that the world’s last Druid was rumored to live here, this territory is currently the most valuable on the planet. The Old World vampires are taking notice.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You should. Whoever winds up controlling Arizona will have plenty of cachet, but in these circumstances you are almost guaranteed to get the most ruthless, evil sort of vampire in charge—unless you help me.”

  “No, Leif.”

  He turned up his intensity. “Zdenik enslaves people and makes new vampires who commit every possible atrocity in his name. I neither enslave nor create new vampires. There is a definite difference between having me or someone like Zdenik in charge. And Zdenik is not the worst of them.”

  “Look, as far as I’m concerned, there isn’t a vampire in the world who’s worse than an oil executive, and I don’t go around assassinating them either.” Peripherally, I noticed that this earned me a sharp glance from Granuaile. “I’m through, Leif. I can’t stick my neck out again. I just went to a lot of trouble to disappear, and my advice is that you should do the same.”

  So intent were we on our conversation that we did not pay attention to our surroundings as we should have. That allowed the vampire I’d spotted earlier in the Double Dog Dare Café to walk up behind Leif without being noticed until she spoke. She wasn’t wearing the courtesy fashion coat anymore, but she still had on the American Eagle T-shirt. Her college-boy snack was absent. Her voice was thick and liquid with a Bohemian accent.

  “This man can assassinate vampires, Leif? No wonder his blood smells unusual. Who is he?”

  I would let Leif worry about her. I was worried about Oberon. Why hadn’t he warned me that she had entered the restaurant?

  Oberon? I got no answer. Oberon?

  Chapter 18

  “Ah.” Leif looked embarrassed. “Natalia, this is, ah, a friend of mine.”

  “I assumed as much. Who is he?”

  Leif was uncertain how to introduce me. He knew he couldn’t use Atticus, but Hal hadn’t told him our new identities. I didn’t want this vampire to know them either, so I provided a name off the top of my head, gambling that this foreign vampire would be unfamiliar with heavy-metal drummers. “Lars Ulrich,” I said, nodding at her. “Nice to meet you, Natalia.”

  “Do not speak unless you are spoken to,” she snapped, her eyes boring into mine. She was trying to charm me, but that wasn’t going to work.

  “Awful bossy, aren’t you?” I said, a small smile on my face. She blanched. “More than a little rude, in fact. Still, it’s no reason for me to forget my manners. Would you like to join us?” I gestured to a small empty space next to Leif.

  She eyed me suspiciously. “I prefer standing.” Leaning toward Leif, she asked him, “Who is this Lars Ulrich who can resist my charms?”

  My mind raced through possible scenarios. There was no way that we could talk our way out of this. Now that she’d identified me as someone who could kill vampires, my entire future was jeopardized. She would investigate, eventually discover the truth, and all my efforts to fake my death would be for naught. I had to assume, based on Leif’s statements, her accent, and her behavior, that she was one of Zdenik’s lieutenants. She couldn’t leave alive. Or undead. Whatever. Once she was out of my sight, all it would take was one phone call, and I couldn’t guarantee that I’d catch up to her before she could make it.

  “That’s just as well,” I said, scooching over a bit so that I could stand. “I feel like getting some air anyway. Kinda stuffy in here. Shall we talk outside?”

  “Here is fine,” she said, shifting her position so that the seated Leif was between us, “or it would be if Mr. Helgarson would answer my questions.”

  Leif’s earlier assertion that these lieutenants of Zdenik’s were all younger than he was gave me an idea—she wouldn’t be able to speak Old Norse. I had to hope that Leif hadn’t lost the ability to speak it himself. Before he could stumble through some kind of answer, I spoke quickly to him in the language of his birth.

  “I will bind her limbs and lips together,” I said. “Stand up and make sure she doesn’t fall.” Thankfully, he remembered the language. Leif stood and Natalia took a step back as I switched to Old Irish and began binding the skin of her lips tog
ether.

  As far as the earth is concerned, vampires are fair game. They’re nothing but perambulating sacks of carbon and trace minerals that prey on living people, and, as such, I can do whatever I want to them and Gaia is completely chill with it. I didn’t want to unbind Natalia here, because it would be excessively messy, cause panic, and draw unwanted attention to me. It would be better to remove her from the premises and make sure no other vampires were around. I also wanted to check on Oberon.

  “Enough playing. Tell me who this man is or I will tell Zdenik,” she said to Leif. And those were her last words. I completed my binding, and she discovered that it was simply impossible to open her mouth. Eyes widening in shock, she conveniently lifted her hands to her mouth for me, and I was able to execute a shorter, “repeat” binding, with just a small adjustment of the target: Now her hands were also bound to her mouth, and panicked noises were trying to bubble out.

  “Grab her around the shoulders like you’re buddies, but don’t let her go,” I said to Leif in Old Norse. As he moved to obey—she struggled a bit before he could secure his arm around her—I began one last binding on her jeans: I bound the inseams together so that she wouldn’t be able to run. In this way, she was immobilized inside of fifteen seconds without a single punch thrown or a scream to summon would-be heroes.

  Her desperate noises were attracting attention, however, some scowling faces wondering why that woman was so upset and whether the men had anything to do with it.

  “It’s her food allergy,” I said in English, a bit louder than I needed to. “We’d better get her to the doctor. Come on.” Some of the nearby patrons’ expressions changed to pity for the poor lady with an allergy.

  Now that he was clued in to the ruse, Leif played along. “Let’s get you outside,” he said consolingly, also speaking a little bit louder than necessary, to reassure anyone listening in. Using only his left arm to squish her side next to his, he basically carried her out of the restaurant, lifting her up a bit so her feet wouldn’t drag on the floor. With her hands pressed to her mouth, Natalia plausibly looked and sounded like she was having trouble with something she’d eaten.

  “Stay here,” I told Granuaile before following Leif. “We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  “I’m coming,” she said, moving to stand.

  “No,” I said firmly. “I really need you to remain here.” If there were other vampires outside, I didn’t want Granuaile to become an easy target. “Seriously.”

  She studied my face to see if there was any give in my expression and found none. She slumped back, clearly displeased but not about to fight me on the subject.

  “Thank you,” I said, then hurried to catch up with Leif.

  Oberon! I called, mentally shouting as I darted past tables to the front door.

 

  Oh. You’re okay?

 

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached the exit. Thank the gods of twenty pantheons. Why didn’t you answer earlier?

 

  I called you twice, I said as I looked around for Leif. He was to my left, still carrying Natalia, heading next door toward a convenience store with a few gas pumps in the front; we’d left Oberon in the parking lot, to my right.

  His tone became apologetic.

  Walk to the sidewalk and turn left, I told him. You’ll see me there. Follow behind and watch for vampires, please. Maximum paranoia. Don’t forget the roofs.

 

  All right. Keep me informed of any developments.

  Leif paused at the end of the building and swung around to check on what I wanted to do. I jogged to catch up and pointed to the sliver of space between Granny’s Closet and the convenience store.

  “Dumpsters should be back there,” I said in Old Norse. No use getting Natalia even more riled up. Yet.

  As casually as we could, and with Leif still pretending that the arm around Natalia was protective, we walked the thirty yards or so to the back of the building and slipped out of sight of all the traffic on South Milton Road. We found the big industrial trash bins and I threw open the lid, startling a few hardy flies that were battling the chilly temperatures.

  I’m dissolving your camouflage, Oberon. Please make sure no one follows us back here.

 

  “Toss her in,” I said to Leif, purposely using English. Natalia heard that, made a supreme effort, and managed to separate her legs, tearing her jeans right down the inseam. I’d been expecting that, but Leif hadn’t. He started cursing as she kicked at him, and I calmly bound her legs together again—now using her exposed skin. She wouldn’t be tearing through that.

  “What are you doing?” Leif said.

  “I just wanted a quiet place to talk without someone interrupting with escape attempts. So. You have one of Zdenik’s lieutenants helpless. What are you going to do?”

  Leif looked wounded. “Me? Aren’t you going to unbind her?”

  “No. She’s your enemy in your territory. You wanted help and I’m giving it because I can’t let her tell anyone I’m alive. But I’m not your assassin. Do your own dirty work.”

  Leif shrugged and pushed her over so that she fell facedown onto the asphalt. He planted a foot between her shoulder blades, gripped her head on either side with his hands, and with a soft grunt pulled it off with a snap of bone and a wet, slurping sound. I’d bound the skin of her fingers so tightly to her face that some of them tore free of her hands and dangled from her lips, and in other cases the skin of her face tore loose and remained bound to her fingers. It was a quick, brutal, and messy extermination, as I suspected it would be. Leif tossed the bloody head into the trash and I began to unbind it, partly to get rid of the evidence and partly to make sure that this vampire would never respawn.

  “Thank you, Atticus,” he said, hefting the body and doing his best to keep blood off his clothes.

  I finished the unbinding and watched in the magical spectrum until the red light of vampirism winked out in the skull as it dissolved among the food scraps and paper bags and plastic packaging.

  “I don’t really want to be thanked, Leif,” I said. “I want to be left alone.”

  “I understand,” he said, heaving the body into the bin. He kept talking as I spoke the words to unbind the body; if I didn’t take care of the light in her chest, she’d come back in worse shape than Leif had, but she’d come back nevertheless.

  “But you have to admit this was a simple exercise for us. Working together, we could clean up the state in a few days. Please, Atticus.”

  Natalia, who’d probably enjoyed thirty years of life and three hundred years or more of bonus existence sucking the blood out of the living, melted inside her T-shirt and torn jeans. I nodded once in the direction of her remains and said, “Sorry, but that’s all the cleaning I’m going to do, Leif. That’s one rival eliminated. Orchestrate the rest yourself. Though I still say you should simply leave. May harmony find you.”

  He didn’t miss the note of finality in my voice as I turned toward the gap between the buildings. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I’m simply leaving,” I replied, walking back to collect Oberon and Granuaile. “See how easy it is?”

  I left him standing there and fully expected never to see him again.

  Chapter 19

  One of the nice things about waking up is the inherent serenity that comes with knowing you’ll probably live until breakfast. It’s true that sometimes you can wake up with a Brobdingnagian hangover and hate your life, but at least you have life, and the cure for a hangover is probably in your kitchen somewhere. There will be birds chirping, a dog somewhere to pet, and a few moments where you can contemplate the pleasant possibilit
y of getting into some sort of adventure that day.

  On the other hand, if you live long enough, you’ll discover new and exciting ways to wake up that are less than serene, and well before dawn arrives. Weasels in your bedroll: not good. Huns pillaging the city and raping women: very bad. Vampires breaking through your hotel-room door and sinking their fangs into your newly healed neck before you can move: It doesn’t get much worse than that.

  I was in Room 403 of the Hotel Monte Vista, where Freddy Mercury once stayed. I’d sung a bit of “Bohemian Rhapsody” to myself before slipping underneath the sheets and getting snuggly with the comforter. I fell asleep wondering if Scaramouche would do the fandango.

  The vampire attached to my neck was improbably strong. The door to my room was completely destroyed; he had plowed right through it and attacked me before the sound could rouse me sufficiently to defend myself. Hotel thresholds offer no barriers to vampires.

  On the fourth floor and cut off from the earth, I had a limited amount of magic stored in my bear charm. I used some of it to strengthen my right arm and punch him in the temple; it broke three of my knuckles but successfully knocked him off my neck for a moment. I activated my healing charm and began to speak the spell of unbinding as he hissed and came after me again.

  I had no leverage, and the thrice-cursed snuggly comforter, so welcoming before, was now effectively keeping me in place for the vampire’s dining pleasure. He was on me again before I could get my legs free and employ some basic martial arts. I kept him from my neck, but just barely, using more magically enhanced strength. It was like wrestling Leif—even worse, for this lad was stronger and therefore older—and I knew from experience I would not be able to maintain it for much longer, especially with three broken fingers. My charm was running out of juice rapidly. He slapped me hard to make me stop the unbinding, and it worked. I had to start over.