by C L Walker
The tattoos protected me, but it took all the energy I’d risked taking from the heart. Jeremiah glared at me in confusion and I used the moment to tear at his flesh with my nails, gouging out chunks of his flesh. The tattoos fed.
I moved as fast as the vampire king, ripping his hand from my neck and tossing him across the room. Artem had turned to face me but hadn’t tried to defend his king. I would let him live as long as he kept his place.
The king of the vampires was up and attacking, dashing across the small space in a moment and slamming into me, driving me back into the wall and through it. We crashed to the ground in the apartment next door.
The couple sitting there shrieked but I had bigger problems than annoying the neighbors. Jeremiah’s claws were tearing at my face and the tattoos were flagging. I was worried his weight on top of me would crush the heart in my pocket, but if that happened the fight would be over because I’d use that power to rip him into very small pieces.
I punched his ribs, snapping them with ease. Once, twice, and then he was bleeding through his finely tailored suit and I was glowing again, every tattoo powered and angry. I could feel the king’s true shape as I wrapped my arms around him and started to crush him; he was smaller than his image, spindly and decrepit.
Bones crumpled under the pressure of my tattoo-powered arms and more blood escaped as ribs tore through his flesh. I gained power as he faded.
He growled and slammed his head into my face. It was a distraction and I began to heal immediately, but it gave him the space to escape and retreat to the other room.
I was up and following in a moment, the tattoos bringing up magic shields to protect me now that there was space to do so. I could feel fire dancing along my arms as they wove the power I’d stolen into projectile attacks and readied them to be cast.
Jeremiah had his arm wrapped around Bec and a murderous look on his face. Artem had backed into the corner and I could see on his face what he was thinking: this was the moment his king died and he got a legitimate shot at the throne.
“Kill her,” I said. This was the moment I’d planned for, the reason I’d picked a fight with the vampires in the first place. I would be free of my master.
And yet I felt odd saying it. I had wanted her to go the way of my former masters and I had made it happen, and now I hesitated. A terrible thought occurred to me: did I like her?
No, I decided. Bec had already offered to return me to the locket. She’d done what I wanted her to do. To kill her now would be counter-productive. I needed to take care of Seng and her death would complicate things just as they were coming to a head. I needed her to live to further my plans.
I wasn’t sure if that was the answer, but I went with it.
Jeremiah hadn’t acted on my instruction but he hadn’t let her go either. The blood-tattoos were agitated, wanting to attack and defend her but confused by my actions.
“You can kill her or you can leave,” I said. “I don’t care which. But as I said, if you harm her I will kill you.”
“You couldn’t—”
“You know I can, vampire king.” I willed the tattoos to waste more of their stored power to make the fire surrounding my arms brighter. “I don’t have to.”
He made up his mind quickly, pulling her to the door and waving to Artem to follow him. There was still a chance he’d kill her before trying to escape and the tattoos knew it as well as I did. They were fighting me as she was pulled into the hallway.
“Be careful,” I said. Artem was in the hall and Jeremiah was blocking the door with Bec. If he was going to do it this was the moment.
He let her go and they vanished, using their vampiric speed to race away faster than the eye could follow.
“You told them to kill me,” Roman said from the door to the bedroom.
“I wasn’t going to let them, hedge-mage.” I wasn’t sure if that was a lie, but only Bec could force me to tell the truth.
“We need to leave,” Bec said. She held her middle where Jeremiah had grabbed her and looked at me with a strange expression on her face that I couldn’t read.
“I don’t think they’re coming back,” I said.
“Or they’re coming back with an army,” Bec replied. “Let’s go take care of your old friend before they do.”
I nodded, pleased at how quickly she’d recovered from her desperate situation.
The tattoos cancelled everything they’d cast in preparation to finish the king. I’d forced them to spend all the power they had, both the new power from the vampire and the dregs of the angel’s, and I felt my weakness settle on me again. But I still had the heart in my pocket and it beat to let me know I still had a chance.
We packed up and they followed me down the stairs, trusting that I could defend them if anyone was waiting for us.
Chapter 22
“You should have read his notepad,” Roman said as we drove across the city. He had the angel’s book in his hands. “He was working for Seng, but he was also working for himself.”
The sun was gone but its light remained, staining the sky and painting the city and its traffic blood red. Bec was driving again – she seemed to have an endless supply of cars she could borrow – but this time Roman had chosen to sit beside me, in the back.
“The observations they’ve been making are their attempt to understand where they can be most helpful.”
I wanted to ignore him and revel in what I was about to do, but the hedge-mage had gotten under my skin and I couldn’t block him out or ignore him. I knew I had to deal with him and it pissed me off.
“They killed her father,” I said. “They tried to kill me. They’re working with someone who plans on killing a whole lot more people.”
“You don’t know what this Seng wants,” Roman replied. “All I’ve seen is everyone trying to undo the horrors you’ve inflicted on them. Even the vampires are just reacting to your actions. Seng just wants to be himself again.”
“You stupid man.” I was tired of his naiveté. I was tired of Bec’s control. I was tired of this whole strange world.
“You’re bloodthirsty,” Roman said. His voice was rising in anger to match my own. “You’ve created the problems we’re facing and you think punching them will make them go away.”
“You’d be surprised how often that works.”
“In your day, for your masters, maybe. But that isn’t the only way.”
I snatched the notepad from him and tossed it out the open window. He reached for it but pulled back when I glared at him.
“The angels will do whatever they can to ensure they won’t be locked away again, which makes them allies of Seng. And Seng is a god.”
“And?”
He really couldn’t see it, and his blindness to the realities of the world surprised me. He taught religion in a university but didn’t seem to understand how the gods worked.
“He is a god, born to merciless power. The very best of them were accepting of the deaths of millions if it furthered their cause. They fought incessantly, using you people as their army.”
“That’s an oversimplification,” Roman said.
“No, it’s an observation. First hand, too, which you can’t claim. All you know is the stories, and they’re terrible enough. I lived through it. Don’t tell me you want to let Seng succeed because you don’t understand what that would look like.”
Bec stopped the car and looked back at us. “When you two are done fighting, we’re here.”
Everything in Fairbridge seemed to be named after the founding family, the Granthams. The tallest building in the city was no exception. Grantham Tower filled a city block and stretched high into the sky. The entrance was large enough for a generous crowd to gather and was lit as bright as day.
“How are you planning on getting in?” Bec said.
She’d confirmed that Alex Farris was attending a fundraiser in the grand ballroom of the building. His plans for later in the evening weren’t published anywhere. Nobody had though
t to ask; he was a small time politician and a big time real estate guy, but everyone saw him as boring. He didn’t get the flashy headlines or people tracking his every move.
It was a good cover for Seng: it gave him access to great wealth and influence without needing to do anything for it, as long as he didn’t make a spectacle of himself. He’d have to turn up for functions and whatever business leaders were expected to do, but he could turn them into gatherings for his own people when he needed to.
Like tonight. I spotted a pair of hollow men entering through the crowd. Nobody looked their way and they walked past the doormen without being noticed.
“So?” Bec said, breaking my concentration.
“I will walk in the front door.” The heart beat as though in response to my bravado. I knew there was nothing that could stop me.
“Don’t hurt those people,” Roman said. I could see the same sentiment flashing across Bec’s face, but she kept it to herself.
“Why are there so many?” I said.
“Some famous people turned up for the party,” Bec replied. She turned to look at the crowd. “The people are waiting for their idols to come out.” She didn’t look impressed.
“If you hurt anyone then you’re no better than Seng,” Roman said. He was really starting to irritate me.
I answered half-heartedly, not bothering to look at his earnest face. “If one person must die to save a thousand, is that fair?”
“That’s not what’s happening here.”
“What about one for ten thousand?” I continued, as though he hadn’t spoken. “There is always a number at which your morality fails.”
“You tell yourself that to stop from going mad.” I felt Roman sit back in the car. He was giving up the argument, which was just as well because I didn’t think I could take it anymore; there was a good chance I would have had to shut him up.
With nothing left to say I stepped out of the car and crossed the road. Traffic filled the streets around the building and drivers glanced at me, seeing me for the abnormality I was in their world. I liked the feeling; I was the barbarian they’d structured their society to avoid, and simply having me in their midst made a mockery of their conventions.
It could also have been the gore dripping from my pocket and the heart I kept there. Perhaps.
The crowd stepped aside when I began pushing through, the doormen focusing on me right away. I thought I could make out firearms under their jackets. I was out of stolen power and I was feeling the aches and pains of my various wounds, healed but still bothering me. I put my hand on my chest in case I needed to get to the heart quickly. Things were about to get interesting.
I stopped before the guardians at the door, a pair of men barely out of their teens who put on a brave face when they saw me.
“Ticket?” one said.
“I’m here to meet someone.”
My whole body begged me to plunge my hand into the pocket, to soak up the power that was waiting there for me. I knew I couldn’t, that I had to wait as long as possible to ensure it wouldn’t run out by the time I got upstairs. Seng wouldn’t be prepared for me – nobody ever was, even if they thought they were – but he had angels to command and I couldn’t face them as a man.
The doormen stepped aside and gestured to the door. For a moment I wasn’t sure what to think or how to react, and then Seng spoke in my mind.
“You didn’t think I would be surprised, did you?” His voice was playful, pleased with himself. He thought he was being clever.
I stepped through the doors and into the foyer of the building, a construction bigger than the largest temple in the old world. Marble bedecked and brightly lit, it would have shamed the greatest of the pantheons of my youth.
“When one of my angels vanished earlier I knew it had to be you. It was always going to be you.”
His voice, which had been formed from random background sounds ever since I’d killed him, was now a strong, confident boom in my head. He thought he had the power to defeat me and had no concerns with showing me.
I approached the elevator and the fancily dressed people waiting stepped out of my way.
“Where are you keeping him, I wonder? It must be somewhere well concealed. But then, you have a hedge-mage on your side. They’re good for a few flashy spells, aren’t they? Go to the top floor.”
He didn’t know about the angel’s death. I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor, trying not to smile. He thought I was coming as a man and would prepare accordingly, if at all. The fight would be over before it began.
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken your master and run away. It’s the smart thing to do, but then, it is the great Agmundr we’re talking about, isn’t it?”
He finished with a self-satisfied chuckle, leaving me in silence for the long journey up. My hand rested on my chest, ready for the moment I’d need the heart.
The doors opened on an empty room, another enormous sign of excess that would have impressed the kings of old. It was dark, the only light coming from an open door with an exit sign above it. I scanned the room as best I could with my human eyes and made for the door.
A flight of stairs led up to another open door, this one letting out onto the roof. I could feel the power waiting for me now, waves of it penetrating the concrete and steel of the building. The blood-tattoos squirmed in anticipation, readying themselves and their myriad spells for the conflict to come. The concentrated divinity was almost too much for my mortal mind and I had to pause for a moment to clear the strange thoughts and powerful feelings from my head before going on.
My heart beat more quickly as I stepped out into the cool night air. The sun had completed its journey and the sky was black, covered in brilliant stars. Hollow men stood along the edges of the building, a dozen of them. In the center, smiling and confident, stood Seng in the form of Alex Farris.
“Should my assistant get you a drink?” he said. A small man stepped forward, out of the ranks of angels, before realizing the question had been ludicrous and stepping back. “I guess not. You won’t be here that long, will you?”
“No, I suppose I won’t.”
I walked toward him, watching for any sign of an attack from the angels. The nervous assistant’s eyes sprang from me to the dark-cloaked men at his sides and back to me, but none of them moved to defend their leader.
“We could have worked together on this,” Seng/Farris said. “Then again, the first thing I’m going to do is find your wife and feed her to the dogs. Erindis, wasn’t it?”
I grabbed hold of the heart. Power flooded into the tattoos and they exploded with red light. A flash of fear flooded Seng/Farris’s eyes, and then the fight began.
Chapter 23
“Erindis, wasn’t it?”
The words were important and my mind wanted me to focus on them, but Seng/Farris had leaped back and raised a magic shield as the angels dashed toward me. I didn’t have time. I had to fight.
The first angel tried to stab me with an ornate dagger. The blade deflected from the tattoos covering my chest. I grabbed it from his hand and buried the blade in his skull. A splash of blood hit my hand and the tattoos grew brighter. I turned to face the next attack.
A precise punch came aimed at taking my head off, but I was faster. I caught the angel’s hand, braced myself against his chest, and tore his arm from his body. Blood and ripped muscle coated my hands and the tattoos now had enough power to act as they were designed.
I was faster than them, faster than anything on earth. I moved amongst them as though they were statues, driving my fist into the chest of one, snapping the neck of another, kicking another hard enough to send him from the rooftop. He hung in the air as I powered on.
The haze of battle had me now. I wasn’t thinking, only acting. These weren’t angels and enemies: they were targets for me to destroy. The blood-tattoos thrilled at the thought and gave me more speed, more strength. I cut through the remaining hollow men in what must have fel
t like a heartbeat to them.
I stopped before Seng/Farris and slowed down. Angels fell to the ground or were thrown through the air behind me, but I was watching the god to see his reaction. He was surprisingly calm about it.
“Are you ready to die?” I said. I was covered in the remains of his army, standing ready to kill him again, yet he didn’t react with fear or anger. He didn’t react at all.
Something was wrong. I looked back at the carnage and saw what I’d expected: the angels rising from the ground. Those I’d sent over the side of the building floated back up into sight while the ones on the ground got to their feet, healing as they did. It was sooner than I’d expected, perhaps, but I hadn’t meant to kill any of them.
The assistant waited at the edge of the building, crouching with a terrified look on his face.
I turned back to Seng/Farris.
“Have you seen it yet?” he said. There was a slight smile on his face and it was setting me on edge. This was the part where he cowered and I killed him, but instead he still seemed to think he was winning.
I looked for what I’d missed, scanning the rooftop again. Angels assembling for another attack; cowering assistant; haughty Seng/Farris.
The sky was dark and full of stars. I recognized none of the constellations, which was odd as I’d navigated many ships in my life, but the fact of them being there should have warned me that something was amiss. I’d entered the building at dusk and emerged in the dead of night.
I turned back to my enemy and examined him. Seng/Farris gave me as much time as I wanted, though he was simply stalling to allow his angels to get into position. He seemed like a normal man, as he should, surrounded by a magical shield that would protect him from most things, but not from me. It was stronger than the conjuring of a hedge-mage, but not an overwhelming achievement.
Seng would have done better. Seng would have known what to expect and planned accordingly.
“You are not Seng,” I said. I could feel the power I’d stolen bleeding from the tattoos, slowly but surely. I would have to fight soon or be unable to defend myself.
