Lockhart's Confirmation (Vespari Lockhart Book 2)

by J. Stone

  “Gah!” she growled, continuing to run from the beast.

  Wynonna popped open the shotgun and pulled out the shell. The vargulf was a few seconds from tearing her to pieces, and she could think of little else to do in that moment. The vespari looked over to the torch burning on the wall. The shell had failed to fire, but there had to still be some dry powder with it. Disregarding her worry that it was a stupid idea, Wynonna chucked the incendiary shell toward the fire and jumped back.

  Somewhat to her surprise, the flame proved sufficient to ignite the shell, and the hallway exploded in a hail of fiery debris. The vargulf received another face full of embers and had to stop to put out the flames that caught on the ritualized bandages. Wynonna had missed most of the explosion, but she still lay on the ground because of it. With the vargulf distracted for the moment, she took the opportunity to rifle through her ammo pouch and get another of the shells. She loaded it into the spitfire, hoping for a bit of good luck for once, before getting to her feet.

  The vargulf recovered as well, and growling, it dropped to all fours and slowly stomped its feet toward her, preparing to pounce at any moment. Resolving herself to live or die by the next shell in that weapon, Wynonna raised the spitfire and pulled the trigger. Flames exploded out of the barrel, as the vargulf leapt into the air. The blast proved enough to knock the feral beast backward as well as ignite its fur and the bandages that encased most of its body.

  The vargulf wailed and howled as it landed and started to roll around on those yellow chunks of stone. Wynonna, however, wasn’t interested in waiting around to see what became of the creature. The vespari turned and fled down the hall, slipping through the narrow crack left by the open door. Not wishing to allow the vargulf or the golden queen to escape their tomb, Wynonna stopped outside the chamber and leaned her whole body against the tan stone slab.

  The weight of the door was immense, and she couldn’t imagine how the naga had opened it in the first place. Regardless, she had to either kill the creatures inside or seal them within. Given her lack of knowledge on what they were and her entirely unreliable ammunition, she resolved herself to do the latter. Her feet just slid on the sandy ground, as she pushed against the stone. Wynonna refused to give up though. Bracing one foot against the wall rather than the floor, she pushed again.

  The door began to budge but only a bit. She wedged her other foot against the wall, so that she was scrunched between the wall and the door and pushing her back against the slab. Straightening her legs out and making herself almost completely horizontal, the door started to shift, and as she gained momentum, Wynonna managed to push the door the rest of the way. When the slab hit the tomb’s doorframe with a loud, crashing sound, the vespari’s back slipped, and she fell to the ground. A smile crossed her face, however, and all she could do was laugh, astonished but grateful to still be alive after all she’d been through down in those depths.

  ***

  By the time Wynonna found her way out of the sewers, the light of the sun had already vanished. She didn’t think it was all that late, but she was eager to get back to the Black Tea Tower and get some rest. Not even Petronila’s nightmares could keep her from those beds. Though as she started to make her way toward the tower, she stopped and thought about things. She remembered Rohan, the so-called oathbreaker, and how he had offered his help should she learn anything more.

  The vespari retrieved the map from her pocket and unfolded the still damp bit of paper. Though the sewers had smudged some of the ink and caused it to run, she could still make out what she needed. She looked at the Fayburn Sluiceway she’d just climbed out of and traced her finger over to the so-called Lover’s Alley that Rohan had pointed out to her.

  He’d told her he would check the board for messages from her every night that he could manage it. It was getting late, but she had some hope that he wouldn’t have checked it yet. Shoving the map back in her pocket, Wynonna also thought on how she would need paint for the message. As she headed toward Lover’s Alley, she kept an eye out for anywhere she could buy such a thing.

  Unfortunately, the only places that looked to be open and inviting at that time of night were a few places to eat, some bars, and inns. Paint supplies seemed not to be a high priority for people at night. That didn’t mean she was out of options though. Nearing what she could easily tell was the Lover’s Alley from even a couple blocks away, Wynonna spotted a young woman sitting on a bench in a park. In front of her sat an easel holding up a canvas on which she painted.

  Approaching the young woman, Wynonna spoke up. “Hey,” she said, just to get her attention.

  The painter looked up from her canvas and smiled politely. “Hello.”

  As Wynonna arrived there, the scent of paint knocked her off her guard. In a flash, the smell transported her mind back to her childhood home and reminded her of her brother, Casper. He was two years older than her, the middle child along with her, and in many ways, they were similar. One way in which they differed, however, was Casper was far more artistic. He painted in his spare time, and many of his works covered the walls of their house. She didn’t have time to linger on the pleasant nostalgic memories of her brother, however, so she forced her mind back to the present and the painter sitting before her.

  “This might be weird,” she began, “but I was hoping I could borrow some blue paint.”

  The woman just stared at her for a moment. “What?”

  Wynonna pointed toward Lover’s Alley. “I need to write a message to someone. Think you could help me out?”

  “You want me to give you some blue paint?”

  The vespari shrugged. “And a brush, I guess.”

  “Yeah,” the painter said. “You’re right. That is a little weird.”

  Wynonna smiled. “I know, but it’s important. Please?”

  The young woman shrugged. “Okay. I’m about done here anyway, and I’m headed that way. How about I just write it for you?”

  “Yeah, that works for me.”

  Wynonna stood there, watching as the young woman gathered and packed all her supplies. After a few minutes, they started toward Lover’s Alley, and when they got there, the painter leaned her canvas and other supplies against the wall.

  Bending over and sifting through her things, she asked, “You wanted blue paint?”

  “That’s right,” Wynonna replied.

  “Okay,” she told her, getting a brush and dipping it in her blue paint. Standing back up, she asked, “And what do you want it to say?”

  Wynonna looked over at the park and nodded toward it. “What’s that place called?”

  The painter looked at what Wynonna indicated and asked, “The park?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Prosper Park.”

  “Okay,” Wynonna said. “That’ll do.”

  The vespari dictated what she wanted her message to say, and when she’d finished it, the painter had left the following on the Lover’s Alley wall.

  R. -

  Meet me at Prosper Park.

  - W.

  “That it?” the painter asked.

  “That’s it,” Wynonna replied. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, yeah. No problem. Happy to help.”

  Wynonna nodded, and both women turned in opposite directions. The vespari then returned to the park where she’d first found the painter, and when she got there, she sat down at the very same bench. Taking a heavy breath, Wynonna leaned back and resolved herself to wait for Rohan.

  ***

  A little more than an hour passed before Wynonna saw the familiar face of Rohan smirking and coming toward her.

  “I knew you couldn’t keep away from me,” he said.

  “Yuh-huh,” she muttered, not standing up.

  Walking up and sitting down on the bench next to her, he waved a hand in front of his face. “Wow, you stink.”

  “Thanks. Good to see you too.”

  With a smile, he added, “But I still like you.”

  She rolled
her eyes. “And, here I was worried.”

  Taking a cigarette from his interior trench coat's pocket, he lit it up and took a heavy drag. Looking at her, he asked, “But seriously, why do you smell so horrible?”

  “I just climbed out of the sewer.”

  “Yeah, okay, but what’d you do? Swim around in it?”

  Wynonna raised a single eyebrow and just stared at him.

  “So, that’s a yes?” Rohan asked.

  “The naga did most of the swimming. She just took me along for the ride.”

  “Well, I know you’ll be disappointed, but I think we should keep this particular visit strictly professional.”

  “I’ll endeavor to get by without you vaguely tickling my nethers,” she replied, soaking each word in a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “Well, now you’re just being mean. I’m certain it was more than a vague tickle.”

  She just stared at him.

  He cleared his throat. “So, what did you want to see me about? Did you learn something?”

  Wynonna leaned back and fished the sketch she’d found in the naga lair from her pocket. Unfolding it, she then handed it to Rohan and waited for him to react.

  He took it from her, looked at the sketch of her face, and then shrugged. “What? I’ve seen your face before.” He pointed at her. “It’s right there.”

  She frowned. “Flip it over, smartass.”

  He did so, and she waited for him to read the message. When he looked back up at her, he asked, “Where did you find this?”

  “You recognize the handwriting?”

  He looked down at it once more and then back up at her. “No.”

  “Mm,” she muttered. “Figured it was a long shot.”

  “So? Where’d this come from?”

  “I’m guessing you’ve heard about the naga taking people near the Fayburn Sluiceway?”

  Rohan nodded and took another drag from his cigarette. “Yeah.”

  “This was in their lair. Someone gave them this sketch and tried to get me killed.”

  He searched for a response and even opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Wild, I know,” she said.

  “One of the elders is working with a naga?”

  Wynonna nodded. “Well. Was working. They’re dead now. Plus it was actually two twin nagas.”

  Again, he searched for a response.

  “Yeah, again, wild.”

  “I guess, but… wait. You’re still alive.”

  “Perceptive of you. Thanks for noticing.”

  “You should definitely not be. Naga are not exactly easy targets, but two…”

  “Yeah, I don’t recommend it or anything. The fun didn’t end with them either.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Wound up in some ancient tomb. Found a couple of creatures wrapped in parchment.”

  “Really?” he asked, a wave of recognition washing over his face.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “What you’re describing is a bane,” he told her. “They’re pretty rare. Lucky you.”

  “Oh yeah,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m real lucky.”

  “Well, I’ve never even seen one. Certainly never killed one, but Ambrose told me about them.”

  Wynonna shrugged. “So, what are they?”

  “Well, unlike some of the other things we hunt, they’re not natural.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “They’re created. By occultists, specifically. They used to be living people who had a ritual performed that first killed them and then brought them back.”

  “Occultists, huh?” Wynonna thought back on the mural she’d seen. The advisor who approached the golden queen with the deal. He must’ve been an occultist. “What about them? The occultists? Cory noted them a bit in his journal, but I don’t know much.”

  “They’re just people,” Rohan told her. “People born with a capacity for magic. They’re dangerous, and the vespari treat them no differently than the monsters we hunt.”

  “You ever fought one?”

  “Couple. Not that I’m bragging.”

  “Yeah, right, I forgot to remind you how impressed with you I am.”

  He nodded with a smile plastered on his face. “And that hurts my feelings, Wynonna. I’ve got one of those fragile masculine egos to deal with. Do your part to keep it intact.”

  “Yuh-huh,” she muttered. “I’ll do my best. So, these occultists, if you can manage to get off the topic of you.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll allow it.”

  “Mm. So what? They’re just inherently evil?”

  Rohan shook his head. “No, but magic is power, and power is inherently evil. I don’t trust anyone with too much power, and neither should you. Just look at the elders. One of them is corrupt. An occultist is no different. If you ever meet one, just remember - you can’t trust them.”

  “Hm. But it’s an occultist that’s responsible for banes?”

  Rohan nodded, puffing another breath of smoke out but saying nothing.

  “Well, there’s one part I don’t understand.”

  “Yeah?”

  “One of them was a lycanthrope… or a vargulf.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  Wynonna frowned. “Interesting was not the word that came to mind when I saw him.”

  Rohan chuckled and said, “Well, I suppose there’s nothing stopping a lycanthrope from becoming a bane. If I were to bet though, I’d expect you saw a vargulf.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “To become a bane, the person has to die. That means, if he was a lycanthrope before the ritual, he became a vargulf afterward.”

  “A bane vargulf,” she added.

  “Yeah,” Rohan said, pausing to think for a moment. He then looked back up at her and told her, “You know who would really find that interesting? Spencer.”

  Wynonna dropped her eyes at his mention. “I’m not sure I can trust him.”

  “Spencer?” Rohan asked, tilting his head to the side. “That teddy bear? Why not?”

  “The sketch,” she told him, flicking the piece of paper in his hand. “He’s the one who drew it.”

  “So what? He draws all the sketches.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not even a confirmed vespari yet. They told me he only does that once you’re a real vespari.”

  “I suppose, but did you ask him about it?”

  “He said Nicolae told him to go ahead and do it. That he thought I would pass the confirmation.”

  “Nicolae, huh?”

  “What? You don’t really think he’s involved do you?”

  Rohan shrugged and tamped the cigarette into the wood of the bench, letting the butt fall to the grass below. He then slowly pulled another out and lit it before taking a drag and letting the smoke roll out in front of him. “Not sure. Wouldn’t have thought so, but someone gave that sketch to these naga of yours.”

  “You said it yourself; Nicolae couldn’t have been the one you saw in the elders’ chamber. The man you saw was slender, and Nicolae is certainly not that.”

  With a sigh, Rohan nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know. Maybe one of the other elders knew about the sketch. Whatever the case, I don’t think Spencer is involved. His heart is in the right place. Always has been.”

  Wynonna folded her arms and leaned back against the bench. “If you say so.”

  “So… what are you going to do now?”

  She shrugged and stared into the distance. “Not sure what I can do. Guess I head back to the tower and tell them about the nagas. It’s supposed to be my last challenge.”

  “You know you weren’t supposed to come back though.”

  Wynonna nodded. “Yeah. Bowater even told me as much.” She twisted her head to the side to look Rohan in the eye. “Are you sure it’s not him? I really want to shoot that jerk.”

  He smirked. “You’re not the only one, but I just don’t think it’s in him.”

  “What about Ernest?”
/>
  “Hildebrand? What about him?”

  “Could he be involved?”

  “Are you just naming every enormous jackass we have in the vespari ranks?”

  She frowned. “Maybe. The bastard pissed in my bathwater.”

  Rohan narrowed his eyes. “Is that an expression I’m not familiar with?”

  Wynonna slapped the back of her hand against his chest. “No. Literally. I was taking a bath, and he came in and pissed in the water.”

  Rohan tried not to, but he still laughed at her story. “And where did you bury the body?”

  “I wish. The elders would’ve stopped my confirmation if I did anything to him. They told me as much. We already had a fight in the mess hall.”

  “You kick his ass?”

  “Would’ve, but the coward had two others with him.”

  “Wow, I want him to be involved now.” Rohan shook the paper in his hands. “Maybe we could just add his signature to the bottom here.”

  “Speaking of which, you ever heard the name Azus before?”

  He shook his head and gave it back to her. “Doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  Snatching the sketch from him, she stood up and folded the paper before shoving it into her pocket. “Well, I guess that’s it then.”

  Rohan leaned back and stretched his arms over the back of the bench, biting down on the cigarette to keep it in his mouth. “Did I help you at all?” he muttered with half closed lips.

  Wynonna shrugged. “I know what a bane is now.”

  He smiled up at her. “At least there’s that.”

  She stuffed her hands in her pockets after a chill wind blew through the park. “Now, I just have to figure out this whole elder thing.”

  “Just be careful,” he warned her. “Study each of them as you tell them about the nagas, but don’t reveal too much all at once.”

  “Yeah.”

  Rohan put out his second cigarette in the same way as the first and stood up. “And, if you need me, you know how to get a hold of me.”

  “Right,” she said with a nod.