Eternal Craving

by Nina Bangs

  The vampire reared back, eyes blazing red, fangs bared, and grabbed the guy. The human only had time for a high-pitched scream of terror before the worker tore his throat out. Ignoring the blood spatter and gore, the vampire drank.

  The crowd reacted as crowds always reacted, with blind panic. You had to love it.

  Time for some crowd control. Stake thought the thought and it became real. The crowd froze in place, humans and nonhumans alike. He smiled at them. “See, now isn’t that better? All that wild-eyed shrieking and running is so unnecessary. Everyone will now calmly and quietly listen to what I have to say. When I’m finished, I’ll release you.”

  Behind the crowd, his workers covered all exits and formed a circle around his captive audience. Nodding, he spoke.

  “I hate to bore everyone, but it’s really necessary for you to understand why I’m here.” He smiled benignly at them. A really stupid woman in the front row looked relieved, mistaking his smile for a sign that she was safe.

  “You’re truly fortunate, or unfortunate as the case may be, to be living in 2012. The ancient Maya created a calendar that ends on December twenty-first of this year. They understood it would be a time of challenge for humanity, but even they didn’t know the full significance of this day. On December twenty-first, all humans will be wiped from the face of the Earth.” Stake picked up a glass of wine from the table behind him and lifted it high. “I celebrate the brilliance of the Maya. I toast their ability to foresee what was to come.” He drained the glass in one gulp. “I bemoan their inability to stop it.” Did his sad face look authentic?

  Along with his wine, Stake drank in the horror on every human face in the crowd. That’s right, now you understand. You’re going to die, and you can’t do a thing about it. He continued with his speech. “I and eight of my immortal compatriots are here to make this a memorable time for everyone on Earth.

  “I’m afraid the nonhuman members of the audience will have to stay frozen until I get some old business out of the way.” He nodded to his workers at the same moment he freed all the humans. Then he put in his earplugs and sought inspiration from his iPod and the horror unfolding before him. Stake picked up his sketch pad.

  The humans were like ants, scattering in every direction, but his workers were faster. He ignored vampires ripping out throats. Clichéd. His werewolves tore chunks of human flesh from still-screaming bodies. He yawned. The demons were a little more creative, tearing heads off and propping them on tables like place keepers in some ghoulish game. But he’d seen heads torn off before. Could he help it if he felt a little peevish?

  Then he saw something new. With a grunt of satisfaction, he began to sketch. He should’ve known the male Fae would be the fun one. They seemed to have a higher intelligence than the other races.

  Stake’s pencil flew. What emerged was the angelically radiant face of the Fae, its golden hair sticky with human blood. Ah, it would take all of Stake’s talent to show the texture of that hair with only a few strokes of his pencil. The intensity of the Fae’s expression amazed him. Could he capture the wondrous evil that shone from those eyes? What an incredible challenge.

  The Fae was slowly taking the human male apart one piece at a time and then laying out the pieces to form an immensely creative new form. Unfortunately, the human had lost consciousness the moment the Fae tore off his arm.

  Stake’s pencil flew over his sketch pad. He cursed his frustration in not being able to fully illustrate the gushing blood that settled into thick puddles all around the Fae.

  Finally, there was nothing left but a bloody torso. Stake threw back his head and roared with laughter as the Fae placed the last part of the dismembered body in place on the floor.

  The human’s head now wore a set of antlers made from his forearm, hand, and spread fingers. His entrails had become a long flowing tail. Note to Fae: deer didn’t have long, flowing tails. But Stake would forgive him the mistake because of the total entertainment value.

  He labored over his sketch, ignoring the rising gore around him. Stake had amazing concentration when necessary.

  With a flourish, Stake added the four legs of the new animal the Fae had fashioned out of the two lower legs and the two thighs. He’d formed an utterly unique creature, a man-deer.

  Stake dropped his pad and pencil onto the table and then pointed at the Fae. “Bravo, bravo!” He’d fuck this superb creature later. Male or female had no meaning for him. It was only the sexual experience that mattered.

  The Fae saluted him with a bloody hand.

  Stake finally took stock of the slaughter. Finished. The humans were nothing more than anonymous bits of flesh. His possible recruits still stood frozen, but their eyes screamed their own terror.

  He chuckled. Not to worry, my new little workers. You’re safe. For the moment. Stepping to the edge of the stage, he addressed his future employees.

  “Forgive me for holding you hostage. What you just saw was a demonstration of the kind of entertainment you can expect in your very near future. If you haven’t guessed, this is a recruitment meeting. We need more true believers to fan across the city, and then the whole Earth, carrying our message of a shift in world power.” He smiled what he hoped was a benevolent smile at the faces staring up at him. “And you will be in the vanguard of the shift.”

  Excitement over the coming apocalypse made him unable to stand still, so he slowly paced back and forth across the stage. “I’m part of a group of immortals who’ve returned to Earth after a long absence.” He mourned the fact that they’d ever had to leave at all. “We’ve successfully engineered other great overthrows of dominant species. Now we’re about to do the same for you. Humans will disappear from Earth forever on December twenty-first. On that day, the massive armies we’ll have created will rise up and wipe them out.” Just saying the words felt almost orgasmic.

  He wagged a playful finger at them. “I bet I know exactly what you’re thinking. ‘If this guy and his friends are so damn powerful, why don’t they kill everyone themselves?’ ” Stake shook his head sadly. “Oh, that we could. See, we have a slight problem. The powers that be forbid us to destroy humans directly.” Stake wanted a minute, just one freaking minute alone with the anonymous powers that be. That’s all the time it would take for him to scoop their stupid brains from their heads and put in the brains of something smarter.

  Stake blinked and forced himself to concentrate on the job at hand. “That’s where you come in.” He reached out with his mind to everyone beneath him, smoothing over panic and fear with feel-good emotions that would give all of them a false sense of safety.

  He smiled. Stupid nothings. They thought because they were nonhuman that they were superior to the ones who’d died. They were only a blink of the eye to Stake’s leader. For a nanosecond Stake allowed himself to wish the leader had shared his name with him. Then he forgot about it. The leader could do anything he damn pleased. After all, names were power. Stake never for a moment considered giving his real name to any of his workers.

  “You will be our army. When the hour comes, we will lead you in an uprising that will rid the Earth of all humans and put you in their place.” He watched their eyes carefully. Their eyes would tell him who would join and who would not. The nots would die, of course.

  Good, most of their eyes held expressions of excitement and anticipation. The few that didn’t? They’d serve as a lesson to the others.

  “For any who don’t see the value in what I’m proposing, think of the possibilities. No more hunting the night for prey while trying to hide your existence from the dominant species. They may be less than you, but there are a lot more of them. Think peasants with pitchforks. And then think of a world where you are the powerful ones, the ones who make the rules.” The ones who, after the humans are gone, will happily turn on each other while the world descends into chaos. The very thought put Stake in his happy place.

  “Now I’m going to release you so you can voice your support or rejection.” He lif
ted his arms to signal that they could once again move. The arm-lifting was simply show-boating, but it gave his workers a visual of his power. Lower beings needed such demonstrations.

  A babble of voices all trying to be heard at the same time hurt his ears. He raised a hand to still them and everyone instantly shut up. Good. They could take direction.

  “Any questions?”

  The expected hand went up. “I don’t wanna be part of any damn army. I get everything I need without your help.” The demon had “dumbass” printed in bright neon letters across his tiny brain. “So whatcha gonna do about that?”

  Stake smiled gently. “I’m going to send your stupid ass back to hell.”

  The sudden flash made everyone gasp. Then they took a few seconds to look around the room. When they realized the demon was truly gone, their gaze returned to him. He didn’t miss the new respect in their eyes.

  “Let me clarify things. I can’t kill humans directly, but I can dispose of nonhumans quite easily.” His smile never wavered.

  Another hand went up. A tentative hand. “Umm, what should we call you?”

  Supreme leader? God? Stake resisted the temptation. “Just call me Stake. Not my real name. Only a fool hands out his real name. I like Stake because it reminds me that I have a huge stake in your success.” Always make the workers think you’re doing it all for them.

  “Anyone else want to walk away from my offer?” No one raised a hand. The example of one dumb demon had done the trick. Too bad. The demon hadn’t been any fun. Anything that didn’t involve blood couldn’t be classified as entertainment.

  “Good, good. My people will pass out forms to everyone. Name, address, phone number, that kind of stuff. Fill out the forms and leave them on the small table by the door as you leave. Someone will contact you in a few days. And I’m going to stand by the door to shake every one of your hands.”

  The forms meant nothing. The handshake was everything. As he touched each hand, he’d slip into the worker’s mind and know immediately if he or she was truly committed. Any who were lying or planning to betray the movement would be dealt with.

  He’d let them think they’d fooled him. But once he’d touched them, they were his. They couldn’t run far enough to escape him. He could call them to him, or if he didn’t feel like taking the time to destroy their betraying butts, he could send other workers out to do the job for him.

  And when he’d completed his recruitment duties in Philadelphia and was ready to move on to the next city, he’d use the memory of that touch to gather them together one last time. By then he’d have a well-oiled organization in place to carry on in place of him.

  Once finished with the handshaking, he allowed his thoughts to wander. Fin and the other Gods of the Night had to be dealt with. Gods of the Night? His leader had chosen that name, but Stake thought it gave them a lot more importance than they deserved.

  “What do you want done with the body parts, boss?”

  Stake abandoned his thoughts to deal with the worker’s question. “Move them, then come back and clean up this place. Find a public building and dump them there to be found in the morning. Make sure you smear lots of blood on the walls and floors. It’s time for the real fear to start. Wars are won on many levels. A terrified enemy is an easier enemy to defeat. Philadelphia is about to get its first taste of battle waged on a level it can’t begin to understand. Or stop.”

  Seir stood in the shadows and watched. Perhaps he’d show up at Stake’s next party. Maybe he’d even offer his help. After all, he’d been a big help to Nine. In a twisted sort of way.

  Of course, he was playing both ends against the middle. He’d played the game so long, he’d almost forgotten which side he was really on. Loyalties were a bitch. Oh, wait. He didn’t have any loyalties. That made things a lot easier.

  He watched as they all came out, the ones who had survived that is. Finally, Stake, aka Eight, emerged. Self-satisfied bastard. All eight of them were. Zero was the exception. Zero had his head screwed on right. Could he help it if the hired help was less than he was? Jeez, it was hard to find good immortal flunkeys nowadays.

  The thought dragged a grin from him. His grin died, though, when he realized Stake’s followers were carrying body parts out in big plastic bags. Seir could smell the coppery scent of blood. He scanned their thoughts. Looked like Stake was firing the first major shot in his war against Philly’s human population. The terror was beginning.

  “As you knew it would.”

  The voice in his head startled him. Balan. Seir slid his gaze to the many shadowed places not lit by the lone security light. There. Amber eyes glowed intense and intelligent as the blacker shape of the jaguar almost, but not quite, blended into the shadows.

  Why was Balan here? Seir knew he was the immortals’ messenger, but he owed his allegiance to the head guy. Allegiances could be fluid, though. He should know.

  Balan had hung around the edges of the action in Houston. What did he know? Had he been in the Astrodome on that final night when Fin wiped out Nine’s recruits? Seir didn’t think so. He would’ve sensed the big cat.

  The important question was how much did Balan know about him? Nothing, he hoped, other than that he wasn’t human. Balan could sense that much. After all, Seir had changed everything about himself. He wasn’t what he once was. If Seir’s luck held out, Balan would never know who he was or what part he’d played in Nine’s exit from Earth.

  He reached out to the cat with his mind. “Who are you and why are you here?”

  “I’m Balan. I’m here to observe and report. Nothing more at the moment.”

  “At the moment” was the operative phrase. Seir knew what Balan was capable of. Now for a little probing. “Why did you speak to me? Have we met before?”

  Balan’s soft chuckle made Seir uneasy.

  “I know you for a demon. I know you worked for the one the Gods of the Night called Nine. That is all I know.”

  Seir felt some of his tension drain from him. But Balan’s next question ramped up the tension again.

  “Why did you leave Houston?”

  “Yeah, I worked for Mr. Wyatt.” Think. “Too bad he failed in Houston. I don’t like failure. So I watched the news until I found a city where the murder rate had skyrocketed. Figured that was a good clue that another one of the immortals had set up shop. I’m here to help finish what Nine started.”

  Balan was silent for a moment. “Then good luck…with what ever you plan.”

  What the hell did he mean by that? Seir sensed rather than saw Balan leave. One minute the jaguar was there and then he wasn’t. Now that Seir knew Balan was in Philly, he’d move more carefully. It wasn’t just coincidence, though, that Balan had been in Houston when Fin was there and now once again he’d shown up in the same place as the Gods of the Night.

  But wondering about Balan was pointless. Seir walked to his car, his footsteps echoing along the dark, empty street. Somewhere in Philly, the dead were being left to be discovered by the living.

  Once in the car, he drove toward home. He didn’t need a vehicle, but it was a prop like everything else in his life, something that made him look normal if humans saw him.

  Seir had the ritual down pat. He parked his car as close as he could to his small apartment—unlike Fin, he was into keeping a low profile—and then dematerialized only to reappear in the park at Ritten house Square. With no humans around at this hour of the morning, he didn’t need to play the “normal” game. Then he sat in the shadow of a large tree and stared at the windows of his brother’s condo.

  Chapter Five

  Jenna stared at the back of the men’s heads and wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Maybe she should’ve insisted on telling her sister where she was going. But Fin was right. Kelly would have tried to stop her. And even though her sister had promised to tell all, Jenna got the feeling she’d avoid it as long as possible. This would have been a wasted night waiting around for Fin’s meeting to be over.

 
She compromised by pulling out her cell phone and trying to call Kelly. No luck. Phone turned off. She and Jude and Al had been driving around for hours now, but better to let her sister know late than never. Jenna sent a text message. There. Duty done. Not that she didn’t trust Fin. Okay, so she didn’t trust him. But thinking that he’d knock her off and dump her lifeless body in the Delaware River was a bit of a stretch.

  She wasn’t totally unprepared for trouble. All the women in the Maloy family carried pepper spray in their purses. And of course, she always had her cell with her.

  She glanced out the window. Jude was driving slowly down a dark street with far too few streetlights. Or maybe it was just that half of them looked like they’d been shot out.

  “So what’re you looking for?” She aimed the question at anyone who’d answer.

  “Someone who’s lying around on the sidewalk or staggering down an alley.” Al didn’t sound enthusiastic. So far, they’d found no one in need of saving.

  Jude stayed silent.

  Jenna returned to staring out the window. Well, that had been informative. She hugged herself. Even with her heavy coat, she was cold. Maybe if Al would shut the damn window, she’d warm up a little.

  “Why do you have the window open? It’s freezing in here.” She’d promised herself she wouldn’t complain about the open window. No way would she give either of them an excuse to go back to Fin with tales about Kelly’s whiny sister. But enough was enough.

  Jude answered. “He has preternatural senses. So he’s trying to catch a scent or hear something.”

  Al swung his head around to stare at Jude. Jenna didn’t have to use her intuition to know that Al was ticked at what Jude had revealed.

  Jude shrugged. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  Forgot what? “Preternatural senses? Want to explain?”

  “No.” Al sounded definite about that.

  “Why not?” She prided herself on being persistent. It was part of who she was. No one got a dynamite story without being a pain in the ass at least part of the time.