“You sure do talk pretty.”
“Careful, redneck,” Caleb snapped at Zachary.
“Don’t worry,” he replied, still staring at Clara. “Their mind tricks don’t work on us. I can feel her digging around in here.” He pointed to his temple. “But it ain’t doing her no good. And no, I don’t think I’ll be letting you out of your chains anytime soon.”
With a small smile playing across her face, Clara said, “It’s just as well. I don’t think that corpse you’re wearing has anything useful to a real woman anyway. Perhaps the inflatable ones are more to your liking, hmm? It’s harder to disappoint them, and they won’t laugh at you.”
Sneering, he let go of her face and made a fist. I swiveled the rifle on him, and as he pulled back to punch her with as much strength as he could muster, I pulled the trigger. A single bullet, burning like a shooting star, raced across the distance and punched a small glowing hole in his throat. I could hear the flesh sizzle in the silence that followed.
“Get him!” Caleb shouted, his eyes focusing on my position immediately.
Zachary tried to say something, but all that came out was congealed blood and smoke. I switched the rifle to automatic as two ghouls rushed at me. The zombies moved to screen their masters from further fire. I let off tight bursts at the howling creatures as they crossed the open ground. The first one went down in a tangle of limbs as bullets tore through his forearms. The second pressed on through the hail of burning magnesium, its hide glowing with a dozen nickel-sized wounds.
Before it was on me, I had a chance to see Ben look at Caleb, the acolyte’s back turned to the wizard as he watched me. Ben’s eyes glowed white and energy erupted from them in an arcing fountain. Caleb was lifted off his feet by the lightning, screaming in agony. A good wizard didn’t need to speak spells, and a great wizard could work magic with his hands tied behind his back and a gag in his mouth.
I got the rifle up in time to block the slashing claws of the ghoul as it jumped over the hood of the truck and landed on me. The thing was barely recognizable as human anymore. It had no hair and a few scattered remnants of clothes to speak of. Rows of jagged teeth snapped together in a mouth that was too big for its rotting face. It bit into the stock of the gun and shook its head, worrying at it like a bone.
A white cat leaped onto the hood of the truck behind the ghoul. I put my legs up under the thing’s chest and pushed as hard as I could, releasing the gun as I did. It flew back and slammed into the passenger door, dropping the ruined rifle. It shook its head as the cat transformed into Clara, crouching and pouncing just like her animal form would upon a wounded bird. She grabbed it around the neck and twisted swiftly, turning the head fully around to face her. It took two steps towards me and collapsed in a heap at my feet.
She stiffened as her eyes landed on me, all of the muscles in her body tensing like wires carrying a current. The fight behind her was intensifying, but she didn’t seem to notice. My view was obscured by the truck, but I could tell from the sound of mayhem that Simon and Ben had escaped. Something flew over the hood of the truck and landed a few feet to my right. It was an arm. It still had a camouflage sleeve on it, but I couldn’t tell if the owner of it had already been dead or not. I hoped so.
I looked around frantically for a weapon so I could join the fight, and then noticed something. “Where’s Cassie? She was just here a minute ago.” I stood up quickly, wincing as a needle of pain shot into my hip. I looked back at Clara and noticed that she wasn’t looking me in the eyes; she was looking a little higher.
“You’re bleeding,” she said dreamily, taking a few steps closer. Silver light erupted from behind her, lighting the sky and momentarily blinding me. Several screams came from nearby, not all of them human-sounding, and I figured Ben had scored a direct hit.
When my vision finally cleared Clara was standing right in front of me. Her eyes were half-closed and her lips parted slightly, as if expecting a kiss, but the two fangs I saw quickly banished that illusion. With her this close I could make out all of the rips in her clothing, and all of the blood caked onto it. Most of it wasn’t hers, but all of the injuries she had sustained fighting that ghoul that Darius had brought with him had needed to be healed, and it cost her to do that. She was drained of blood, possibly dangerously so, and all of the plasma that was being spilled tonight must have been driving her and Simon crazy. And then I show up with a nice juicy scalp wound.
“Clara, now is not the time to fall off the blood wagon,” I said shakily. The training tried to suppress the fear that was kicking my heart into overdrive, but she was so close. The smell of fear-induced adrenaline would be like an aphrodisiac to a nymphomaniac who had been locked alone in a room for a month. I stood my ground and forced myself not to move, even though it was killing me not to. The battle that was being fought a mere thirty feet away would have to wait. I had to talk down a starving vampire. “Remember that promise you were telling me about.”
Her hand floated up to the ankh necklace and gripped it tight, but her eyes didn’t so much as flicker from the blood on my forehead. “But you smell so…wonderful.” I didn’t think she was referring to my cologne. She breathed in deeply as if to emphasize her point and a little shudder of exhilaration went through her. Her eyes shimmered like dreamscape as she bared her two fully extended fangs and grabbed the front of my jacket.
I got my right hand up under her jaw as she bore me to the ground. The air went rushing out of me as we hit the pavement, that needle of pain in my hip turning into a jackhammer and my already rattled head exploding in fresh agony. She rolled on top of me and hissed. With my free left hand I punched her in the side of the head a couple of times as hard as I could. I felt bad about doing it, but to be fair she was trying to eat me. The hits didn’t do more than push her face back a couple of inches and piss her off. Probably not something I needed at the moment.
With lightning speed, she let go of my lapel, grabbed the hand that was restraining her, and pinned it to the ground with a manacle grip. Her head darted forward.
“No!” Caleb yelled, and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her away from me. “The Master wants him alive.” With a grunt he tossed her away.
She flew through the air like a rag doll, twisted, and landed on all fours. Her gaze swiveled to the man who had come between her and her dinner.
“Let her kill him,” a soft voice said from behind me. I turned and saw Charles, machete in hand, looking at me with hate-filled eyes. “He did something to our queen. She fought me.” And crushed your head pretty efficiently, I thought with grim satisfaction. “Let the vampire have him, he’s too dangerous to be allowed to live.”
“It’s not your place to question our Lord,” Caleb snarled, but not foolish enough to take his eyes off of Clara. “Go help restrain the other vampire. They’re having a hell of a time with it now that Zachary’s gone.”
“Where did he go?” Charles asked, making no move to obey.
“The wizard blew him to pieces. He might be able to pull himself back together but I don’t know, nothing like that has ever happened before. On the plus side it seemed to take everything the old man had left. He passed out and won’t wake up.”
Charles tapped the blade against his leg. “I think—”
I didn’t want to hear what Charles thought. He hadn’t been much of a help to me so far, and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Taking advantage of the fact that Clara was the only one paying me any attention, I rolled to my feet and ran towards the back of the truck, pain boiling up through my leg with each jarring step. I knew that Clara would see me like a wolf tracking a scared rabbit and act accordingly, thus giving the acolytes something to do. They were standing between her and me after all.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw her charge after me and Caleb and Charles move to intercept. It seemed they were willing to set their differences aside for the time being in order to deal with a blood-crazed vamp. The training urged me to go help Simon and continu
e the fight on a different front, but those parts of me that weren’t cold, calculating, and indifferent told me to help Clara. She had come here to help of her own accord, after all. In fact she had broken human law just by coming here. She had taken a hell of a chance just to be in this fight. And as far as what had happened a minute ago? Well, it wasn’t really her that was trying to drink my blood; it was the ever-hungry monster that lived within all vampires. It wasn’t her fault.
Glancing over my shoulder as I ran, I saw the three figures locked in a dance of death. The two acolytes, as dark as shadows, punching and slashing with the sword while Clara, as pale and unearthly as a ghost, dodged and flickered past, raking them with fingers curled like talons. Everywhere her fingers touched a piece of flesh would be violently separated from its host. As fast as the acolytes were, Clara was faster. I knew that vampires got a burst of strength when they were on the verge of starvation, but seeing it in action in an elder was completely different.
I frantically searched the grounds for a weapon. The training was calmly reminding me that of the three paras fighting somewhere behind me, right now Caleb was the closest thing to a friend I had. It was less than reassuring, which was why it was urging me to find Simon. I ignored it. He could handle himself.
There!
In a puddle ten feet away sat a matte-black Inquisitor pistol, mine or Simon’s, who cared? It was a weapon. I grabbed it up, chambered a round, and ran back towards Clara. I just hoped that after I saved her I wouldn’t have to shoot her.
The canvas tarp on the back of the deuce-and-a-half collapsed into itself as something heavy fell onto the bed of the truck. The green cloth came to a rest and nothing stirred beneath it. A machete fell to the ground behind it, the ringing metal sounding all too much like a dinner bell. Charles lied there unmoving, his dead face tranquil in sleep.
Charles was not having a good night as far as retaining consciousness went.
I ran back towards the melee, but stopped when another body flew through the air and crashed into the side of a jeep, buckling the driver’s side door and cracking the shatter-proof glass. Caleb slumped down, moaning and trying to move an arm that looked to be broken in a dozen places.
“Bitch is tough,” Caleb muttered and laughed. His arm was already mending itself.
I scanned the lot, my pistol in a two-handed grip in front of me. “Clara?”
A silver streak came at me from the side, hitting me with the force of a car. The gun flew out my hands as I went tumbling through the air, smacked the ground, and bounced to a stop.
“Here,” she whispered from right next to me.
The explosion of a single gunshot ripped through the night. Clara shrieked in pain, grasping at her midsection and stumbling away. I looked behind me, my neck and head protesting the movement and leaving me dizzy, and saw Cassie holding my pistol, the barrel spewing oily smoke. Her hands shook a little as she raised the gun for another shot.
“Wait, Cassie,” I croaked.
Clara circled me, her eyes locked on the diminutive dead woman, murder in those icy eyes. I could hear the sizzling of Clara’s flesh, smell it burning as the blessed salt water ate into her. As old as she was, it would only serve to annoy her and make her hungrier.
STOP.
The voice boomed in my head and made the snakes on my stomach writhe in agony. I didn’t know they could feel pain or discomfort, but now I knew they could, and the old, corrupt magic that was in that voice was the cause of it. I tried to rise to my feet, but my body didn’t respond. I could tell that the others heard it too and felt the same effects because both women froze in position.
Come to me, my queen.
Cassie dropped the gun and, with the blank look of one of the zombies, began walking towards where I imagined Christian was. The snakes bucked and burned but couldn’t break the hold that the voice had on me. It hadn’t worked at the church the other day, but something had changed since then. Now he had the Book.
His laughter echoed through my head as he added, We have a world to rebuild.
35
It seemed like I had been lying on the ground staring at the back of Clara’s powder blue top forever before I felt my fingers twitch. In reality it couldn’t have been more than a minute, but when you’re helpless and surrounded by enemies that can seem like a lifetime. The small muscle spasm gave me a new sense of hope, a spark in the creeping darkness. The tattooed snakes worked their way over my torso, warming my flesh as they went and leaving a tingling sensation like probing needles in their wake.
With much effort, I craned my neck down to look at my feet. The left one wiggled when I tried to move it. It was a start.
The snakes, feeling my need for immediate action, worked double-time. They devoured the magic that restrained me and cast it off, layer by layer. The heat the two of them cast slowly faded to be replaced by a growing cold, as if they had been slithering through nighttime mud. I pushed myself up and shook off the lethargy that had crept into my mind as well as my body. My Second Sight opened. A green haze lay across the base like a heavy blanket coating everyone in necromantic energy. I walked up to Clara, whose aura was pushed back tight to her body by the cocoon of emerald energy, and waved a hand in front of her face. Nothing. Her gaze was still fixed on the spot where Cassie had been standing moments before. Her fingers were curled into hooks and her fangs were bared making her look wild and feral. There was nothing seductive about her now. This was the beast that was buried deep, kept away from the light of day and prying eyes. It made my skin crawl with a fear that was ingrained in the most ancient part of the human brain.
Figuring she was safe enough with everyone else in the same state as her, I picked up my discarded pistol and ran, following my Sight to the place where the magic fog seemed to be emanating from. Crows cawed overhead, wheeling in giant circles over the frozen battlefield. They seemed to be centered over the main entrance to the base. If they were there it was a good bet that Christian would be there too.
Blood thundering in my ears, I pumped my legs as if I were being chased by the hounds of hell. Instead I was running towards them. Once I came to the main street, I turned right and followed it. Cargo containers gave way to warehouses and barracks. They all flashed by in a blur as my vision focused on my objective. I could feel power building. He was trying to summon Nathilog. The damn Demon should have stayed in that box where I had put him. My mind raced with possible scenarios. How was I going to defeat him this time? I had barely done it the first time, and I had help then. I was all on my own now with just a pistol and a desire for revenge. If anything had happened to Jon and Juliet—my mind refused to think too deeply on that—then it was my fault. The only way I could find absolution was by destroying this thing that wanted to come to earth. But how?
My lungs were burning and my legs were aching by the time the main gate came into view. Christian stood just inside, his back to me, his face raised to the heavens. Cassie stood passively at his side. Overhead, the mystical storm was falling apart. The rain had stopped and the clouds were ripping apart as if being pulled from opposite ends. My Sight showed me the massive energies that ran through it being siphoned off into the atmosphere. A cascade of silver light fell across the ground as the moon revealed itself.
I came to a stop some fifty feet behind Christian. He seemed oblivious to everything but the sky. The Book was trapped under his right arm. I glanced up and saw that the number of ravens circling overhead had doubled in the past minute. I raised my gun and centered it on the back of Christian’s head, hoping that this delicate moment of his summoning would make him vulnerable.
The gun bucked in my hand. There was an explosion of blood and feathers and something hit the ground with a wet thump. Christian turned and looked first at me and then at the dead raven that lay in a shredded mess on the ground between us.
“You again,” he said with a sneer. His tattoos glowed in the moonlight and danced across his skin. “Haven’t you learned yet? You can’t beat m
e. The most you can be is annoying, like a mosquito that doesn’t realize the hand is hovering right above it, ready to crush it to a bloody pulp.”
“How poetic,” I said, and fired again. Another bird died with a shriek and a shower of black feathers. “You may have beaten us, but you and Nathilog will never defeat the entire Inquisition. They’ll keep coming, an entire army of them, until the two of you are dust.”
He smiled. “Now who’s the poet?” He held out his hand and ropes materialized around me, squeezing me until I relinquished my gun. They pulled my arms up tight across my chest like a strait jacket. “But who is Nathilog?” He walked forward, his coat billowing out around him in the growing breeze.
A tingle of dread ran down my spine like electricity. “Your master, of course. The one pulling your strings.”
Laughing, he pulled on the ropes that held me to make sure they were secure. “Some minor Demon no doubt. No, Inquisitor, my Master’s name is Rashonteif.”
I felt the dark power push out of him with the uttering of Its name. My legs turned to jelly and suddenly it was an effort just to remain upright.
Rashonteif.
The birds, like dark-winged harbingers, dove down and started to swirl about, going faster and faster until they were a black vortex hovering just above the ground. Christian watched and smiled with wonder. The birds exploded outward from the center in a flapping, cawing frenzy, and in their wake stood a little girl.
Lily, wearing a crimson dress and matching ribbons in her hair the same shade as Christian’s coat, stepped forward. “Christian, my favored servant, I see you have brought me two presents.” Her eyes flickered from the Book to me and back again. “I knew you would not fail me.”
Christian fell to his knees in front of the little girl, the Book gripped reverently to his chest. “Master, you’ve…changed.”
Demon's Play Page 36
