by Cheree Alsop
Dartan stood in the corner of the room. Even at the sun’s highpoint, the sunlight cast just enough shadow that the vampire could stand on his tiptoes in the corner and avoid the worst of it. He definitely looked singed. His skin was red and a few patches showed black, but he was alive.
“I guess they didn’t figure that the sunlight isn’t completely centered,” Dartan said.
“I’m hoping they didn’t have a reason to test it out,” Aleric replied. He pushed back so he could lean against the wall.
Dartan reached down to help him. Aleric could hear the sizzle of the vampire’s flesh in the sunlight.
“I can do it,” he said. “Stay in the shade.”
Aleric sat against the wall for a moment with his eyes closed. When he was certain he could open them again without the world spinning around, he glanced at Dartan. “So what’s the plan?”
“That’s it?” Dartan asked with exasperation in his voice. “That’s what you’re going with?” He took a step toward Aleric. When the sunlight fell on his shoulders, he cringed and ducked back into the shade. “You let me suck your blood, Aleric. You waited until I couldn’t refuse, then gave me your bleeding wrist, and all you have to say is, ‘So what’s the plan?’”
The vampire’s vehemence surprised Aleric. “I wasn’t about to sit there and let you die if I could do something about it.”
“So what about me?” Dartan shot back. “How was I supposed to feel when I came back to myself just in time to realize I had probably just sucked my best friend dry? Were you really going to leave me with that?”
“To be honest, I thought I could stop you before that,” Aleric said quietly.
“Why didn’t you?” Dartan’s tone said he guessed why.
Aleric pulled his knees up. He toyed with the rip in his scrubs. “I couldn’t, then I didn’t want to.”
Dartan let out a growl and hit the wall. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
Aleric kept silent. His mind was clearing from the fog of blood loss. If he and Dartan were both still alive when the sun went down, that definitely changed things with the Archdemon.
“We kill you,” he said aloud.
Dartan snorted. “Now? It would have been easier to just let me die before.”
Aleric glanced at him. “I don’t mean for real. I mean we fake your death. Make it look like you burned up. You were supposed to, right?”
Dartan nodded. “I suppose.”
“So let’s make it look like that’s exactly what happened.”
Aleric pulled the shirt off over his head. He motioned for Dartan to do the same.
“You don’t think they’ll notice it’s two shirts?” the vampire asked skeptically.
“I’m hoping they won’t have a reason to look that closely,” Aleric replied. He rose slowly and waited for the room to stop spinning again before he picked up Dartan’s shirt. He took the two shirts and crumpled them before he set them along the far wall. Aleric cross to the door and surveyed his job. From the short distance, the mound could be mistaken for a body if one didn’t look too closely; at least he hoped so.
“Now what?” Dartan asked.
“Now, we wait,” Aleric replied. “If your theory’s right, they’ll come back when the sun goes down and they are certain to be rid of one of us. It’ll give us some time to answer the most important question.”
“Which is what?” the vampire pressed.
“If the Archdemon is here and he has an unlimited supply of humans, why does he need me?”
Aleric’s question hung in the air. Dartan shifted from foot to foot in his corner, but he didn’t move from the shadow. When the sun sank lower, he took advantage of the extra shade to lay down. Neither of them spoke or moved. They conserved their energy for whatever the evening would bring.
Night had turned the sky to a dark canvas, the moon had passed over the glass-ceilinged room, and the sun was starting to rise once more when Aleric heard footsteps.
“They’re coming,” he whispered.
“Finally,” Dartan replied, taking his place behind the door.
They had made several plans. Aleric wasn’t sure which one the vampire would go with. If they blew their cover by him attacking, they would never find out what the Archdemon wanted and the city would still be at risk from the goblins. But Dartan had to make it out of the room. Aleric’s only hope was to distract whoever came so that the vampire could escape.
The sound of a key in the lock made Aleric’s heart race. He leaned against the wall closest to the door and waited. It opened outward slowly.
An ogre poked his overly large head inside.
“Whew!” Aleric waved his hand in front of his nose. “I hoped that if any of your kind made it through the Rift that your smell would stay behind in Blays.”
“Shut your mouth, werewolf,” the ogre growled. His beady eyes flickered to the crumpled shirts along the far wall. “Good,” he said with a satisfied grunt.
Aleric gritted his teeth, but didn’t reply. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and pretended not to care.
“Walk,” the ogre commanded.
“Seriously? Ordering me around?” Aleric asked. “Aren’t we a little more humane than that?”
The ogre held the door in one massive hand. “No listen, you stay here.”
He made as if to shut the door again.
“Okay, fine, I’ll walk,” Aleric said. “But I still don’t think ordering other people around is civil.”
“You werewolf. Dog, not civil.”
Dartan gave a barely perceptible snort of laughter.
Aleric fought back the urge to glare at him. He turned his gaze on the ogre instead. “Was that a joke? I sure hope so, because if not it was quite rude. I didn’t think ogres were prejudiced, but I’m going to have to change my opinion. Do you really want your bigotry to cast a shadow on your entire race?”
The ogre glared at him. “Go on. Master Pravus doesn’t wait,” the ogre said.
Aleric stepped into the hallway. “What you mean is that Master Pravus doesn’t like to wait. He is obviously waiting.”
“Huh?” the ogre asked.
Aleric glanced behind him to see the metal door standing open. Dartan peeked through. Aleric waved behind him so the ogre wouldn’t notice.
“What I mean is that everyone waits. Even an Archdemon overlord has to wait once in a while,” Aleric continued, distracting the ogre from hearing Dartan’s nearly silent footsteps.
The door stood at the end of a very long hallway without any other entrances, so Dartan was forced to follow them. Aleric couldn’t see another way out than the one they were traveling. If the ogre’s big ears picked up any sound from the vampire, they would both be in trouble. Aleric didn’t entertain the hope that the two of them could take down the hulking beast. Dartan was weak from his burns and Aleric had nearly been drained of his blood. Their best hope was stealth and Aleric’s mouth.
“Speaking of waiting,” Aleric continued, “Don’t you think you could have provided a couch or something in the room back there? That was an extremely long wait on a cement floor. I don’t know if you’ve sat long on a cement floor, but it gets very—”
“Silence!” the ogre roared.
Back in Blays, Aleric would have turned tail and run in the face of an enraged ogre, but Dartan’s life depended on him continuing to distract the hulking Dark fae beast.
Aleric swallowed down his fear and said, “Silence is an interesting word. It’s very individual, if you think of it that way. I mean, silence for one person may be the quiet patter of pixie feet overhead, while for another any sound at all could be too much. In speaking the word itself, one is actually destroying the very thing one hopes for upon saying it. It’s quite the conundrum, if you think of it that way.”
Aleric was sure the ogre was about to hit him. Luckily, they had reached the end of the hallway. The ogre practically tore the door off the hinges in his haste to get through. Aleric followed and was relieved to
see several dark hallways branching off of the one they entered. A glance back showed Dartan slipping into the shadows. For the first time, Aleric was glad demons were creatures who preferred the dark.
The ogre glanced at him after they had turned down several different hallways.
“You quiet.”
Aleric shrugged. “You asked for silence.”
The ogre gave a snort.
Aleric hid a grin.
At the next hallway, huge mirrors lined the walls.
“I’ve heard demons like to admire themselves, but isn’t this a bit much?” Aleric asked.
The ogre glared at him.
The werewolf held up a hand. “Silence. I know.”
He made a face in a mirror they passed. A demon face loomed up behind him. Aleric spun around, sure he would see the demon in the hallway, but it wasn’t there. When he glanced back at the mirror, it was empty.
“Did you see that?” Aleric asked.
“Silence,” the ogre grunted.
Aleric let out a frustrated sigh. He glanced in the next mirror. The four long gouges from the demon Forsythe’s claws stood out as scars along his chest. Aleric was grateful his ability to heal quickly as a werewolf still worked in the human world. If he healed the way the patients in the hospital did, Dr. Worthen would still be re-doing his stitches.
A demon’s face appeared behind him. Aleric glanced over his shoulder, but again the demon was a figment in the mirror; or at least, Aleric hoped so.
Overhead, dark windows lined the wide ceiling. Demons and other Dark fae were fond of starlight. Shutters had been closed over the glass to keep out the light of the rising sun. The thought of demons standing by in front of the mirrors with the starlight overhead was a disturbing one. Aleric had seen Forsythe at his most powerful. He didn’t want to imagine more demons with the strength of night upon them.
The ogre reached another large door at the end of the mirror-lined hallway. The Dark fae reached up a massive fist and gave one solid knock.
“You sure they heard you?” Aleric asked. He fought down a rush of adrenaline. He had never met an Archdemon before. He couldn’t fathom any way in which such a meeting would end up positive. “Perhaps you should knock again,” he suggested.
The ogre ignored him.
A moment later, the door creaked open with enough ominous groaning Aleric wondered if the door had been bewitched to cause fear in the hearts of the Archdemon’s victims.
“Some oil would help that,” Aleric remarked in a forced nonchalant tone.
The ogre shook his head without looking down and muttered, “Stupid werewolf.”
“I’m standing right here,” Aleric pointed out.
He stepped into the great room and paused. He heard the ogre give a grunt of laughter. The Dark fae’s massive hand shoved him forward.
“Enjoy, little mutt.”
Aleric stumbled forward and nearly landed on his knees from the force of the ogre’s push. He steadied himself and stood. When he straightened, it was impossible not to stare.
Forsythe had been the first and only demon Aleric had ever met. He had heard of Archdemons. Tales of them were whispered in the back alleys and hovels of Drake City. But no one spoke louder than a hushed voice because the citizens of Blays feared to evoke the wrath of the Archdemons, or even more frightening, their Queen, Ashdava. Yet standing before the Archdemon Pravus, Aleric couldn’t imagine a more terrifying sight.
The Archdemon who sat in the throne across the room was twice as tall as Forsythe. His huge, lava-patterned body was wrapped in black robes that flowed around him like a living creature. The demon’s hands and face writhed with the lava flowing across his body in red, orange, and black, making him glow with an otherworldly light. Aleric was amazed the Dark fae’s robes didn’t catch fire from his burning skin.
Foot-long metal spikes like those that had been stabbed into the troll at the hospital lined each side of the throne. Aleric knew by the smell that the spikes were silver. If he was stabbed, his body wouldn’t heal from the wound. The fingernails of Archdemon Pravus’ six-fingered hands were long and jagged like serrated blades, and when he met Aleric’s gaze, the smile he gave showed black teeth with the same serrated edge.
“Welcome, Aleric Bayne.”
The Archdemon’s deep voice rolled through Aleric with a deep bass that reverberated in his chest. The Archdemon’s eyes were wide and mocking. Within them, Aleric could see dancing flames as though he stared into the fiery pits of hell.
Aleric smiled, careful not to let the expression turn into the snarl he truly wanted.
“You welcome a guest by throwing him into a cell with a vampire for a day? Did you know their bodies smell when they turn to ash?” Aleric said.
The Archdemon’s gaze revealed nothing of his emotions when he replied, “I was told the two of you were friends. Was I mistaken?”
Aleric snorted. “A werewolf friends with a vampire? Where did you get your information, an anansi spider?” He held the Archdemon’s gaze. “Be careful who you listen to, oh Dark and Writhing One. Lies spread just as easily here as in Blays.”
The Archdemon’s mouth lifted in a slight half-smile that was terrifying. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
Aleric didn’t know what to say in the silence that followed. He could hear the raspy breaths of the ogres that lined the room. Demons in their pale human forms could be seen among the ogres. Their glowing eyes were hard to miss. Aleric couldn’t imagine the damage that would happen to the city if all of the demons went into fury mode. Small shadows scurried along the walls lit by the faint overhead lights. A closer look revealed them to be goblins. Aleric’s heart slowed at the sight of so many. A glance to his left showed the medusa standing near the door. She smiled at him. Aleric quickly looked back at the Archdemon.
“Is there a reason you requested my presence here?” Aleric asked as if he hadn’t been forced at the threat of death to appear in front of the Archdemon.
A deep chortle sounded from Archdemon Pravus’ chest. He chuckled, then laughed. The demons around the room spread the laughter until even the ogres gave gurgling roars.
The Archdemon stopped abruptly and glared at Aleric. Silence flooded the room. “You, Aleric Bayne, are well-named for a werewolf. You have become the bane of my existence, an Ashstock attempting to undermine my efforts in this human world. You are a coward hiding in this human city telling yourself you can make a difference. You are spineless scum, a flea-bitten cur, and a worthless piece of Ashstock filth,” the Archdemon growled. “I have spared your life for one reason and one reason only.” He leaned closer from his huge throne. His cloak billowed around him as if caught in the ghost of a breeze. “Tell me how to activate the Rift.”
Aleric stared at him. “Why would you want to do that?”
The Archdemon sat back in his throne and linked his bony fingers together. The glowing flames of the lava across his skin ran up one arm and down the other.
“Queen Ashdava expressed an interest in this world when Lord Targesh approached her with his plan for dominating the human dimension. With the Vampire Lord and now his son out of the picture, I’m sure the Queen would be pleased to take over.” His hands twitched as if the thought of presenting the human world to her was almost too great to be contained. The smile that spread across his face sent chills down Aleric’s spine. “You, Wolfsbane, are going to make that happen.”
Aleric let out a breath through his nose. He shook his head, forcing his tone to remain calm. “There’s one major problem with your plan, Oh Dark and Slimy One.”
The Archdemon’s eyes narrowed so that the internal flames filled his irises. “And what is that?”
Aleric opened one hand. “You killed the only person who knew how to open the Rift.”
Pravus snorted and Aleric swore smoke came out of the Archdemon’s nostrils. “You’re lying.”
Aleric took two steps forward. They were the hardest steps of his life. His instincts screamed for him t
o fight, to run, to get as far away from that room full of demons, ogres, a medusa, and many goblins as possible, yet he stood his ground.
“Master of All that is Dark and Grimy, I may be worthless, spineless, and a coward as you say, but there is one thing I am not.” Aleric held the Archdemon’s gaze. “I am not a liar.”
“What about flea-bitten?” one of the ogres asked.
Pravus glared at the ogre. The Dark fae lining that side of the room cowered against his glare. The Archdemon turned his attention back to Aleric.
“You don’t know how to open the Rift.”
Aleric shook his head.
Pravus’ voice trembled with anger when he said, “The vampire knew how to open the Rift.”
“He was the only one,” Aleric replied.
The Archdemon crossed the space between them faster than Aleric could follow. He found himself pinned against a wall with the demon’s sharp fingernails digging into his skin. His legs dangled far above the ground.
“Open the Rift!” Pravus shouted.
Aleric refused to die the coward the Archdemon had proclaimed him to be. Though his heartbeat thundered in his ears, he met Pravus’ glare, the huge demon’s face inches from his own, and said, “I wouldn’t even if I could.”
Pravus let out a yell of rage that echoed through the huge chamber. “I will wear your skin,” the Archdemon vowed. He put one hand over Aleric’s head. His palm covered the werewolf’s entire face. “I will crush your skull like a melon. You will die regretting ever seeing my face.”
“I already regret seeing your face,” Aleric said beneath the Archdemon’s hand. “I’ll bet your mother was even uglier.”
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing he could have said, but Aleric knew he was about to die and he refused to lay down and do so in silence.
Pravus let out another growl and clenched his fist around the werewolf’s head.
The pain tore a cry from Aleric’s lips.
Chapter Seven
“Drop him.”
The pressure didn’t let up, but it halted just enough that Aleric didn’t feel like his head was going to split in two.
“You were dead,” Pravus snarled.
