Vesik Series Boxset Book 3

by Eric Asher

  “And where is the fairy?” Park asked.

  One of the guardsmen pointed to the sign, and Park turned to look up at Foster and Aideen.

  “Glad to see no one murdered the wrong fairy. I do have a request, Foster. If you and Aideen could be so kind next time, would you please only relieve these weapons of their triggers? They would be much easier to repair.”

  “We’ll try to be more precise next time your soldiers decide to shoot at us,” Aideen said.

  Park pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Up on the sign,” Stacy croaked out, his throat clearly damaged by Casper’s attack. “Take them out. They’re all murdering pieces of shit.”

  Foster placed his hand on his hilt, and Sam creeped up in front of Frank. It was subtle, but it put her close enough to strike if needed.

  “Private,” Park snapped, drawing the attention of the newly conscious Stacy.

  “They need to be put down,” Stacy said. “They all do. We owe it to Philly.”

  Park eyed Stacy for a moment, and then nodded to himself. “Take Private First Class Stacy into custody. Put him in the brig to cool off. The rest of you, return to base. I’ll be reporting this to your unit commander. Dismissed.” Park’s closing words acted like the crack of a whip, and the soldiers scattered, two of them lifting Stacy and helping the injured man walk away.

  Park kept his eyes on the retreating soldiers until they reached the next block and vanished up the street. Only then did Foster and Aideen glide down from the sign. Aideen settled on one shoulder, while Foster took up a perch on Park’s other shoulder, like the fairy version of an angel and a devil.

  “I’m sorry for that,” Park said, the commanding tones in his voice giving way to exhaustion.

  Aeros took a few steps forward, each footfall grinding and scraping on the stone street. “You need not apologize for the actions of soldiers of whom you were not in command.” The Old God crouched down slightly so he was nearly eye to eye with Park.

  “They’re my soldiers,” Park said. “Everything they do is my responsibility.”

  “It was more mine,” Casper said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do more.”

  Park nodded. “Stacy shouldn’t be on patrol in this area anyway.”

  “And why is he up for a promotion instead of a big chicken dinner?” Casper said under her breath.

  Park frowned. “I’m afraid we both know the answer to that.”

  “Would you care to enlighten the rest of us?” Zola asked. “Seems like it may be important to the people he tried to kill.”

  I flinched at the venom in Zola’s words. It wasn’t undeserved, but I didn’t want to anger Park when he was one of our only military contacts. But we’d saved Park’s life, and Zola was an artist with guilt.

  “He’s from Philadelphia,” Park said. “He lost everyone. Enlisted right after Gettysburg.”

  “You shouldn’t have brought him here,” Sam said.

  “No,” Park said, his voice solemn. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. Half the battalion has a story just like his.”

  “How many other loose cannons do you have?” Frank asked.

  “They don’t concern me as much as the officers with the same sentiments.”

  “Officers?” Casper asked. “I think you mean the brass.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Stacy’s a mess, sir.” Casper crossed her arms and slouched just a hair. I realized she must’ve been exhausted from the healing. And yet she was still on her feet, still had enough energy to put Stacy on the ground.

  “I know.” Park’s gaze flicked between Frank and Casper. “Casper, I need you to worry about the boots on the ground. Let me worry about the brass. I’ll do what I can, but five more commoners vanished outside Falias today. The brass is skittish, and looking to act, looking for answers.”

  “Casper needs rest,” I said. “That level of healing takes it out of you. It’s like you’ve had the flu for a solid month.”

  “Is that what’s wrong with me?” Casper asked. “I was beginning to think some of the poison was still inside me.”

  Thunder boomed in the distance, and a strong breeze rustled some junk mail in the gutter, carrying the scent of rain.

  “Before we go,” Park said, “I need to tell you something.”

  Casper was once again standing at attention. The woman had more stamina than I ever did.

  I nodded at Park.

  “We’ve done a great deal of surveillance in the area. And I believe we may have found the Fae’s base of operation.” He eyed Casper for a moment, perhaps taking in the small tremor that ran down her left leg as she grew less stable. “It’s not far from here. And I shouldn’t say more about it in the open. You need to be aware there are forces amassing within striking distance. If anything, we think the attack on Casper’s squad was a probe, a test to see how we react.”

  “To see if you’d come and kill Foster and Aideen,” Alexandra said, her voice low.

  I blinked at the water witch. “Are you okay?”

  She frowned at me. “I’m quite okay. I’m also quite familiar with what happens when a military force comes to exterminate an entire people.”

  “That won’t happen,” Park said.

  “You already said the top brass want us dead,” Alexandra said, taking a step toward Park. “You might not be able to hurt me and the other water witches, but my friends are not so invulnerable. Any of them—”

  Frank rushed forward and stepped in front of Alexandra, holding his hands up. “We need Park.”

  The serenity I was so used to seeing on Alexandra’s face was gone, replaced by a cold rage that sent ice lancing down my spine. And for a brief moment, I remembered the history of the water witches, their merciless affinity for drowning people. Alexandra took a deep breath and nodded. “I will not stand idly by when the killing begins.”

  She fell back, leaving Park behind Frank, and taking up a post beside Aeros at the back of the group. The Old God exchanged a nod with her, which told me all I needed to know about his thoughts on the local military.

  “Christ,” Park muttered. “I need all of your help. Casper, I wanted to avoid it, but I need you to take a squad into the base.”

  “That’s a suicide run,” Foster said.

  “I know,” Park said.

  “You sure as hell aren’t doing it without us,” Foster said.

  “You’d support Casper and her squad when they infiltrate the Fae’s base?”

  “Yes,” I said plainly.

  Casper’s tremble grew into a shake, and she stumbled to her left, where Sam caught her and helped her stay upright.

  “We should probably take our leave,” Zola said, “or Casper is going to collapse.”

  The first drops of rain started as the thunderheads moved across the sky. Park glanced up and sighed. “I’ll contact you again soon. How long will Casper need to recover?”

  “Twenty-four hours,” Aideen said. “Perhaps a bit longer. In our experience, a long sleep can help a human’s brain understand that its body has been healed.”

  “Thank you,” Park said. “I’ll get her back to our base.”

  “We can drive you,” I said.

  “I’ll take them,” Sam said, volunteering. I didn’t like the idea of Sam being on the military’s radar, considering how much they already knew about our little group, but I was pretty sure all the vampires were on the military’s radar.

  I nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Demon,” Sam said with a small smile. She scooped Casper up into her arms. At first Casper protested, but she gave up after about ten seconds. Park followed them to Sam’s black SUV. Frank helped open the doors, and they all piled in. No one said anything until the red taillights vanished up the next block.

  “Strange day,” Aeros said, tilting his head up to catch the rain as it started to crash down onto us. “I will return to my post, guarding the streets.”

  The cobblestones beneath him roiled until the
y had swallowed him completely.

  “Back inside,” Zola said. “You too, Alexandra.”

  “Ooo,” Foster said. “Somebody’s in trouble.”

  “That’s helpful,” Aideen said, smacking Foster in the back of his head.

  Alexandra eyed the old necromancer for a brief time, letting the rain start to soak into our clothes. “I hope you’re prepared.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  We plopped down into the chairs around the old Formica table, between Bubbles’s lair and the fairies’ grandfather clock. I cracked open a bag of Oreos.

  “Are you okay?” Aideen asked, focusing on Alexandra.

  The water witch nodded. “I’m sorry. Park reminds me of a soldier we knew a very long time ago. He had good intentions, but he got many of my sisters killed.”

  “Atlantis?” Zola asked.

  Alexandra nodded. “Yes, only a century before it sank. Perhaps a little more.”

  “You’re not invulnerable,” Zola said. “Ah’m not sure you should’ve said that to Park.”

  “We’re invulnerable enough,” Alexandra said. “Though I have found it unwise to underestimate the commoners. They’re inventive, and murderous.”

  “They consider you pretty murderous, too,” Foster said. “I mean, before you were reformed and everything. You did have a pretty nasty habit of drowning people.”

  I shot Foster a grin and my phone buzzed. “It’s Sam. They made it.”

  “Good,” Zola said. “The last thing we need is a confrontation with the military.”

  “You mean to support Park’s assault,” Alexandra said.

  I nodded.

  “Then you must understand,” she said, “you’ll be doing it without the assistance of the Obsidian Inn. Ward, the Old Man, Mike—everyone is out of touch. Whatever is happening there has caused them to go underground. None of us can reach them.”

  Bubbles flopped her head onto my thigh. She raised her yellow eyes to me, her sad, sad eyes. I slowly chewed an Oreo and glanced down at her as the tip of her pink tongue fluttered in and out of her pouting mouth.

  “No dog should be that expressive,” I said. “You give guilt trips as bad as Zola.” I flipped an Oreo up into the air, and Bubbles’s tongue shot out like a chameleon’s, snatching the cookie before it crashed onto the table.

  “I swear you two could subsist entirely on junk,” Aideen said.

  “Who’s a good dog?” I said in my best baby talk. “Who’s a good dog!”

  “Thankfully, she’s not a dog,” Zola said, “or she probably would’ve been dead from Oreos a long time ago.”

  Bubbles flopped her furry braided tail back and forth a few times until she finally gave up on me giving her another Oreo. The cu sith trundled off, vanishing down into the shadows of her lair.

  “We should go to Falias,” Foster said. “If Nudd is making his move …”

  “Or the queen,” Alexandra said.

  “Can we reach the Obsidian Inn through the Ways?” Aideen asked.

  “No.”

  “What do you think it means?” I asked.

  “An escalation,” Foster said. “But how much of an escalation is it?”

  “We can’t abandon Saint Charles,” Zola said. “What’s happening in Falias may be a design to draw us out. Something to get Aeros away from here. Something to get us to leave our home unguarded.”

  “Then why would Drake be here?” Foster asked. “It makes no sense.”

  “I agree,” Alexandra said. “It’s Nixie who should be here. I should be in Falias.”

  “You believe that?” Zola asked. She crooked a finger at Alexandra. “I don’t believe we should allow our forces to be divided any further. It’s a simple strategy in war—one that has been used for centuries, as you well know—and we should be wary.”

  “It’s predictable,” Foster said.

  “Just because it’s predictable doesn’t mean it’s not effective.” I blinked and glanced at Zola. That was something she used to say to me during training.

  A smile wrinkled her lips. “We stay with Park. I believe he’s the real target here.”

  “Just point me at someone to kill,” Alexandra said.

  “Are you related to Foster?” I asked. “It really seems like you’re related to Foster. He likes stabbing things.”

  “A lot,” Foster said.

  “We are related,” Alexandra said.

  I frowned slightly. “I thought that was just Nixie?”

  Alexandra sighed and crossed her arms. “Nixie is what you would call my second cousin.”

  “That’s perhaps a loose interpretation,” Aideen said.

  Alexandra shrugged. “It’s good enough.”

  I handed Alexandra a cookie. She eyed it with something like disdain. Or maybe disgust. She didn’t seem to have much love for processed food, unless it was deep-fried and Irish.

  “So,” I said. “Are you coming with us in the morning?” I frowned for a moment. “Morning is probably relative. I’m pretty sure we’re all sleeping in.”

  Alexandra looked around the table. “All of you intend to stay here? To fight alongside this commoner and his soldiers?”

  “Yes,” we said as one.

  “That was creepy,” Alexandra said. “For now, I’ll stay by your side. As my queen has ordered.”

  “Bubbles makes a nice pillow in an emergency,” I said. “You know, if you want to stay here.”

  “You’re welcome to come to the Pit with me,” Zola said. “Ah’m sure Vik wouldn’t mind, and he has some excellent guest rooms.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Alexandra said, nodding to Zola. “I believe I’ll stay with my cousins in their home tonight.”

  “I might have an air mattress in the closet,” I said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Alexandra said. “Come Aideen, show me around your home.”

  Aideen flew toward the grandfather clock, pausing on one of the lower shelves by the swinging pendulum. “It’s a little cramped. And try not to get hit by the counterweight. It’s not healthy for magical beings.”

  I stared at Alexandra as she grew translucent and her body pulled in on itself as she stepped toward the clock. By the time she reached the shelf Aideen was standing on, Alexandra was no taller than the fairy.

  “What the crap?”

  Alexandra frowned at me and put her hands on her hips. “You … didn’t know we can what? Shrink?”

  “I thought you could just change and vanish into water.” I held my hands out, grasping for an answer. “No, I didn’t know you could shrink as small as Foster and Aideen.”

  “Oh,” Alexandra said with a smirk, “Nixie’s going to have some fun with you.”

  And with that, she vanished into the recesses of the old grandfather clock.

  “Did you know?” I asked Zola.

  She shook her head. “I had no idea. Perhaps nothing is stealthier than water inside of a body of water, but imagine their ability to spy by combining those skills.”

  “But Nixie never showed you that?” Foster asked.

  “No.”

  He grinned. And he kept grinning.

  “Are you having a seizure?” I asked.

  “Oh no, oh no. It’s nothing.”

  “All right, I’m going to do some studying upstairs and sleep on a chair because who needs a bed, anyway?”

  “You should probably just move out of your apartment,” Zola said. “It’s like you’re never there anymore.”

  I shrugged. “Good night, Foster. Zola.” I stood up and walked toward the stairs.

  “Damian,” Foster said. “Next time you see Nixie, ask her to show you. And make sure you’re alone.”

  I glanced back at the fairy, and he winked at me.

  “Oh,” Zola said. “It’s a sex thing.”

  Foster burst into laughter, and I shook my head as I headed upstairs.

  * * *

  I cursed and flopped onto one of the overstuffed leather chairs. The empty pizza box caught my e
ye, still filled with translucent blood from the Book that Bleeds. I rubbed my forehead and sighed, turning to the panel in the wall behind me.

  The chest was well concealed, both physically and, more importantly, magically. I left it on the floor where I’d slid it from the wall, as it had grown quite heavy with all the various things I’d hidden away inside it. The lid creaked slightly, the wards etched into the top catching the dim light in the little alcove.

  Inside was the slot from which I’d pulled the Book that Bleeds, and where I now replaced it, sealing it in a waterproof bag. I used to just toss it in haphazardly, but I must admit that opening the box full of that ghost blood was occasionally unnerving. The hand of glory, Gaia’s hand, sat on top of the box’s contents, wrapped in a black silk cloth. I moved it to the side, remembering the sight of Gaia’s still form resting in the cellars beneath Rivercene. I wondered how much more to the story there was that the innkeeper hadn’t told me, and whether I’d ever really learn the full story.

  Beneath that were the extra blue obsidian discs Nixie had gifted me. It would be good for our allies to have one, and I also felt a hell of a lot more secure about possibly losing one. It was the easiest way to communicate with her and outside of a video chat, the easiest way to see her, though I was still known to take an impromptu trip with Gaia’s hand to visit her on the rare occasions we both had a few hours to spare.

  The splendorum mortem rested on the next level of miscellany, its deadly blade inside a brown leather sheath. I ran my fingertips along the cold iron and remembered the sickening crack it had made entering Ezekiel’s skull, and the unnerving lack of resistance it’d found.

  I frowned at the charred fragments of the shattered demon staff as I shifted the contents around. It was one of the few things I probably didn’t need to conceal inside the trunk; there was really nothing anyone could use it for to harm me or mine. It was a stark reminder of how dangerous these objects could be. Of how close I had come to losing everything.

  And perhaps that was most important to remember, regarding what lay beneath.

  I lifted the Key of the Dead in my left hand and held Tessrian’s bloodstone in my right. I still intended to return her to the Burning Lands. I’d given her my word, and without her, we might not have been able to release Vicky from her legacy as the Destroyer. For that, I owed Tessrian. Demon or not.