The Marquis (The 13th Floor)

by Christine Rains

  He had left the apartment nearly panting with his desire and promising he’d be back with some groceries. Equally as breathless, Mae only nodded and didn’t protest his leaving.

  Checking on Kiral first, Marc banged on his door, but the vampire wasn’t home. Several disturbing thoughts raced through his head, but Kiral had a better chance of protecting himself than Mae. He had to stay focused. There had to be someone home to watch over Mae.

  Neither Meira, Xanthus, nor Stefanie were home. It was highly unusual for all the tenants of the 13th floor to be absent at the same time. With the chaos in the city, he’d thought they would stay in where it was safe. He’d have to trust Mae wouldn’t leave and hurried down the stairs to be greeted by a city that looked like the apocalypse had descended upon it.

  Sirens, screams, dogs, and gunshots. The cacophony assaulted his ears. Fires in every direction and not enough manpower to take care of them all. Carmine was not the beautiful lady she had once been, but these scars would never heal.

  If he hadn’t been there, the city would be fine. It was his fault. There was no point in beating himself up over it. He’d have to pay the price sooner than later.

  Marc marched forth ignoring the trash and destruction. People would’ve already looted the grocery stores. He’d doubt any of them would be open anyway. Not that a locked door or gate could stop him, but it was easier to go to Mae’s café and take supplies from her kitchen.

  Black smoke poured out of a nearby building and a cat yowled from one of the upper stories. A trio of teens leapt out in front of him. They couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. One of them held a switchblade. The kid pointed it at Marc, standing tall and proud. His two idiotic friends stood behind him, egging him on.

  Marc growled and touched enough of his power to make his eyes flash red. All the teens’ bravado fled. The one dropped his knife and ran. One fainted and the other peed his pants before taking off blubbering.

  Stepping over the kid on the ground, Marc made it to the café without further incident. As he suspected, no one was inside. The cash register was missing, but that wasn’t a surprise.

  Glass crunched under his boots as he walked around the counter and into the kitchen. The electricity was out, but he didn’t stumble. He found a couple of paper bags and started to pack them with whatever looked edible.

  “Doing a bit of shopping, old man?”

  Marc didn’t hesitate. He picked up a mixer and spun, hurtling it at the speaker. Vetis dodged to one side, but it hit one of the whores who had accompanied him. She screeched and fell to the floor holding her shoulder.

  Vetis laughed and slung an arm around the other woman. She tittered and barely kept on her feet. “I’m sure your pretty little gal wouldn’t appreciate you chucking her appliances around.” He smirked. “Yeah, these ladies were kind enough to tell me about her. Said nice things about her, but said you were a prick.”

  The closest thing with a handle Marc could grab was a rolling pin. Where were all the damn knives?

  “A bright soul, your lady. Nearly blinded me just looking at her.” Vetis tapped the sunglasses he was wearing and then tossed them off. His eyes glowed with a hungry steadiness. “I’ll be doing the world a favor killing her off. Saving sensitive eyes everywhere.”

  Marc’s chest heaved with each breath. He could feel himself slowly growing, teeth elongating. His shirt stretched at the seams. Warm blood trickled down from his forehead where his horns poked through. If Vetis thought to play with him, he would learn the hard way that Marc always got right down to business.

  “Yes, yes, pretty parlor tricks.” Vetis sighed and turned to the woman next to him, kissing her with a disgusting amount of tongue. “Pick up your friend and wait outside. The old man likes to make a mess.” He patted her rear as she retrieved her friend and left the café. “It’s no fun playing with whores. They’ve already damned themselves. Now Miss Mae—”

  Marc didn’t let him finish the thought. He charged, anticipated which way he’d dodge, and plowed him into the wall. Plaster broke around them and coated them in dust as chunks fell.

  “Now this is interesting.” Vetis swiftly rid himself of his shocked expression. “I was sure you had nothing left in you.”

  Pushing against the other demon, Marc pressed him further into the wall. “I have enough to kill you.”

  Vetis lifted his legs and kicked Marc off him. Marc stumbled back, steadying and readying himself. Vetis darted to the other side of the kitchen, taking stock of the situation.

  “Do you know how ridiculous flannel looks on a demon?” Vetis brushed off his shoulders, eyes never leaving Marc. “Leather is the way to go. Always fashionable.”

  They moved at the same time, Vetis coming in low and Marc turning sideways as he sped forward. He snatched a handful of Vetis’ hair and smashed his head on one of the ovens. As his head bounced back, Marc banged it on the counter opposite to the oven.

  Vetis snarled and held on to Marc’s arms. He lifted himself and kicked Marc in the chin, his other foot coming around to crunch his nose. Hot blood flowed out. The pain drove Marc to let go and drop Vetis to the floor. In a heartbeat, Vetis was up and out of arm’s reach.

  Marc swiped his forearm across his mouth. Blood smeared over his cheek and left a rich coppery taste in his mouth. So many times he’d been covered in blood and rarely had it been his own.

  He bull-rushed Vetis, but the slimy devil jumped out of the way to the other side of the kitchen counter. Making a sharp turn, Marc didn’t slow his momentum as he ran at him again. He was swatted on the head for his effort and Vetis’ laughter rang in his ears.

  With a great roar, Marc held out one hand and focused all his hate and anger. The power built up fast within him. The heaviness of it was mirrored in the massive curling horns on his head. A few days ago, he could barely smite a lesser demon. Now he could’ve taken on Hell’s army. There was nothing to stop him.

  Vetis met his blast of flames with his own. He gnashed his teeth as he held his ground. The metal on the appliances warped with the heat. The walls and ceiling ignited, fire fast burning its way into the apartments above the café.

  Neither of them gave ground even as the kitchen fell around them. A ceiling beam barely missed Marc as it crashed to the floor and toppled into the hole between them. It was expanding fast like a black hole ready to suck them in.

  Snarling, Marc willed more into his blast and glanced down to see he would fall before Vetis if he didn’t move. The hairs on his body sizzled and his shirt ripped at the shoulders.

  Having no choice, Marc stepped back and felt Vetis’ fire push him a few more steps. His anger and hate were powerful, but not even as the Grand Marquis had he been ruled by his emotions. He could see clearly enough that Vetis would soon win this pissing contest. The bigger question was did Vetis realize it too?

  He took another step back. Yes, let Vetis think it. It didn’t take any effort to pretend he was straining. It was no lie.

  “Well look at us!” Vetis laughed and put a little spin to his flames. “I haven’t had a fight like this in centuries. Ah, how I miss the good ol’ days.” He grinned, his bloodied face making him appear like a demonic clown. “Feeling a little tired, old man? Did you need a break so you can piss and take a nap?”

  Marc’s knees bent and his arm shook. “Shut up.”

  “What? Sorry, couldn’t hear you over all this lovely fire.” Vetis twirled his fingers, never interrupting his stream of flames. “Don’t worry. I won’t burn you beyond recognition. I want everyone to know whose head I’ll be parading around.”

  Marc jumped to the end of the counter, ending his blast as he moved out of the way of Vetis’. He jerked the hot granite up and swung it like a bat to knock Vetis against the freezer. Even with the stone in his hands, Marc was swift enough to hit the other demon again.

  Vetis was too dazed to move. Marc let loose a maddened cry as he struck him repeatedly. Meaty thuds accompanied the banging of rock against met
al. The freezer pushed through the wall into the Thai restaurant next door. It toppled over and crushed a table. Fire was already spreading through the building, seeming to increase in its intensity as Marc continued his assault.

  Applause from the far end of the restaurant stilled his wrath. Marc threw the countertop, but it didn’t make it to its target.

  “Bravo, old man. Bravo. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Vetis swayed and righted himself against a banister. “I had planned on killing you and bringing your head back. What a sweet victory that would be. But now ...” He grinned with missing teeth. “I’m going to bring the Grand Marquis home alive and well.”

  “What?” Marc stilled, every too large muscle tensing.

  “You go on home and fix your beard. Put on a new shirt. Your Incredible Hulk imitation won’t impress anyone down below.” Vetis made a shooing gesture. “I’m going to finish with the city and find your girlfriend. Once I slit her throat, the rage you let loose here will pale in comparison. You’ll be back to your old self.”

  Vetis hopped over the banister and opened the rear exit door. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Here’s a little something to tide you over until I see you next: I have your vampire.”

  Then he was gone and Marc fell to his knees.

  Kiral. The stupid vamp went out looking for another hit. Marc wanted to rush out and find him just to punch him.

  He rested his head in his hand. Kiral. The closest thing he had to a friend besides Mae. There was nothing he could do for the vampire now. If Vetis had him, Kiral was lucky if he was still in one piece. He wouldn’t be very soon.

  At least Mae was safe.

  She better still be in his apartment. Marc took off in a sprint to his building. He never prayed—God wouldn’t listen to him anyway—but the only thing he wanted at the moment was for her to be safe. He was foolish to feel anything at all, but he silently mouthed a prayer. Surely the powers in Heaven would watch over her.

  CHAPTER 9

  The door flew open and Marc wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. Mae’s breath was knocked out of her, but she didn’t complain and didn’t stop him.

  “You’re safe. You stayed.”

  “Well, yes, I said I would.” Mae replied and rubbed his arms. She peered at his ravaged clothing. “What happened? Are you all right?” She brushed her hands over his ruined beard. The remaining stiff whiskers floated to the floor.

  “Vetis knows who you are. He was there at the café.” Marc pulled her close again, resting his cheek against the top of her head. His anger bubbled to the surface, but he reined it back in. “I’m so sorry, but your place, well—”

  “Shush. It doesn’t matter. I have insurance. All that matters is you’re okay. And you’re okay, right?”

  Marc had sidestepped the question the first time, but she wouldn’t give it up. He released her and shook his head. “No. I won’t be okay until Vetis is dead. And I think I can beat him, but I don’t know if the price is worth.”

  “What do you mean? Saving lives, saving the city isn’t worth it?” Mae’s brows furrowed. It made her look more her age, but it didn’t take away from her beauty.

  “Not that.” He headed to his bathroom, unbuttoning his tattered shirt. He paused, thinking about Vetis’ comment about him putting on a fresh shirt, and growled as he ripped away the remaining buttons. They made tiny tapping noises as they hit the wall and bounced into hiding spots never to be found.

  “What is it? Marc, you can tell me anything.” Mae wisely kept back, one hand resting upon the hall wall.

  “To beat him,” he said as he tore off his shirt and tossed it into a corner. “I have to bring forth my demonic powers. Not just a little either. I need them all. I need to be everything I once was to defeat him. And I don’t think I could return to being ...” He looked at himself in the mirror. Dirty, bloody, and human. “Me.” Why would he even want to return to being like this? He was pathetic. “The demon in me is powerful. And I’d be much worse than Vetis is right now.”

  Mae came up behind him and placed a hand on his bare shoulder. Her hand was cold compared to the heat of his body. He watched her in the mirror as she inspected him, making sure he didn’t have any wounds. She didn’t attempt any more contact. For that he was grateful. Yet there was another part of him stirring, highly aware of how close she was, how wonderful she’d feel underneath him.

  “You won’t lose yourself. You’re much stronger than you think. You’re a hero.” She squeezed his shoulder, urging him to be quiet. “And not just because you saved me. But because of the way you care for Ms. McKay. Her affection for you is obvious. And the way you help out your addict friend. Sticking by someone during that is rough. Most people give up. And the way you care for your tenants. I’ve listened to you talk about them. A lot of people in the city don’t give a damn about others, not even their neighbors.”

  Marc felt a slab of guilt weigh down upon him at the mention of Kiral. He’d failed the vampire. Saving him from being tempted into taking a hit that night had given him a death sentence.

  “Hey, look up.” Mae rubbed his shoulder. He hadn’t realized he’d dropped his head. Their eyes met in the flat plane of the mirror. “I believe in you.”

  He reached up and laid his hand over hers. This feeling he could live within forever. He wanted to say thank you, but words were beyond the gratefulness he felt. Never in all his centuries of life had he found himself speechless. He loved her.

  The realization shocked him. His chest swelled. He could barely breathe. Love. Only a saint like this woman could make his hardened heart beat like this.

  Mae’s smile widened as she watched his face. She stepped closer and leaned her head against his arm. “I don’t care what you once were. Who you are now is what matters. God never gives up on anyone.”

  It hurt with how swiftly his body went rigid. The door to his heart slammed shut as he pulled away from her. Marc shoved past her. “God turned his back on me a long time ago.”

  He ignored her as she called to him and went to his bedroom. Yanking a clean shirt from his closet, he dressed as he headed to the front door.

  She cried out his name, apologizing for what she said. She didn’t know what she’d said wrong. Marc didn’t expect her to understand. She was only human. And he couldn’t be that way anymore. He couldn’t live as a wretched old man pitied by that beautiful woman.

  There was no absolution for him. Not from God nor from Mae.

  Kicking the door closed behind him, he raced down the stairs. The Grand Marquis was going to come out of retirement. And Vetis would be the first to feel his wrath.

  CHAPTER 10

  As soon as he was outside, Marc swung an arm and toppled a lamppost. He shouldn’t have gone back to see her. He should’ve kissed her. He should’ve told her there was nothing between them. He should’ve made certain she stayed in the apartment where she was safe.

  There was no time for anything else. He would find Vetis and finish it one way or another right now. The question was which end did he want?

  He needed to kill Vetis. Marc couldn’t risk the bastard killing anyone else. He wouldn’t risk Vetis coming back to kill Mae out of spite. This meant giving over fully to his demonic side. Becoming what he hated most of all. The Grand Marquis. The Damned.

  Decades ago when he left Hell, he swore he would never be that again. The nightmares, the memories, knowing what he had done in service of his Master, it was worse than any torture Hell could devise.

  Yet letting Vetis win and take his head, Marc wouldn’t have to become what he loathed and his torment would end. Hell wouldn’t have him and neither would Heaven. There would be nothing. Blissful nothing.

  Marching toward the café, he heard gunshots and shouts down four or five blocks. Marc paused and nodded to himself. The military had been called in. Looters and other criminals would flee. Even any lesser demons could be taken down by bullets. Carmine would be exorcised of her demons and nurtured by those who love
d her.

  Before he could continue on, the ground shook with the reverberations of a massive explosion. A plume of smoke rose from the center of the city. Carmine’s Circle. She was too sophisticated to have a city square.

  There was a great white fountain in the center of the roundabout. Three tiered with elegantly sculpted travertine stone. An angel with spread wings sat on the top tending the eternal flame. It was the symbol of the city; a landmark all tourists would see when visiting.

  The perfect monument for Vetis to blow up.

  His body shook as he roared without sound. A pain in his chest echoed the attack on his city’s heart. Carmine, Kiral, and Mae. All dear to him and yet only pawns in Vetis’ game. How he loathed the bastard. He’d rip him limb from limb.

  Changing directions, Marc ran for the Circle. His increasing speed blurred the devastation around him. His horns curled outward and he panted as his teeth grew.

  There was no life around the Circle. The buildings were burnt hulks and all the vehicles were cleared out. Perhaps some people were smart enough to leave the city. He should have stuffed Mae in one of those cars. At least then she’d be far away from this and he’d never have to turn his back to her.

  Marc slowed to a walk as he entered the Circle. There was silence save for the sound of bubbling water. It was as if the apocalypse had happened. Not a soul left to wander except for the damned. Like him. Like Vetis.

  On top of the fountain, Marc thought for a second the angel still stood. Snowy wings outstretched as it bent to the flickering fire. His heart skipped a beat. How could it survive the explosion? Was there some hope for him yet?

  No. Emotions were playing tricks with his vision. There was no hope for him and no angel.

  Vetis lifted his bowed head and smiled, a sore imitation of serenity. His wings fluttered. A pretty illusion and nothing more.