“Why did you need the sword?” I asked, trying to get to my feet. It was harder than I expected and the ground was so comfy, I opted to lie there a little longer.
Gib snarled and glared at me. “Did you know the vampire was trying to contain that demon in a cold iron sword?”
“No.” I tried to narrow my eyes but found it took a little too much effort. “Is the demon dead?”
It was Danae I heard next. I wasn’t sure how, but she was coming toward me carrying my wakazashi. “No. The demon is trapped in a pillar of salt for the time being.”
“Expect a bill,” I murmured before rolling over onto my knees and retching violently. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve as a thought struck me. “So I just made things easier for you, Logan? Didn’t I? The demon is still alive, but it’s contained now.”
“I’m not sending it back. As long as it’s contained, we can continue the binding. I can finish the weapon,” Logan said before Gib slammed him into the tree.
“That is forbidden! The creation of demon weapons has been outlawed for so long, even your precious founder will not remember a time when it was legal,” Gib growled. His eyes flashed as he hoisted Logan into the air leaving flecks of his charred skin on the vampire’s clothing. “Enough of this nonsense. Now, where is my son, leech?”
Logan licked his lips and smiled, which seemed a bit odd given his precarious position. “Rome.”
The look that crossed Gib’s face made me hope he didn’t go into full on werewolf-killing-frenzy mode because I didn’t think I could stop him if he did. I was pretty sure that at this point, even the smallest spell would probably put me into a good eighteen hour coma.
My body had used up pretty much all of its energy keeping me from becoming a human piece of toast. Good job, body. You can have a cupcake when this is all over. Except that cupcakes go straight to your hips, so maybe some celery instead. Congratulations body, you get celery.
“Why Rome?” I said, hoping I was wrong, but knowing I was probably right since the most powerful vampire in the world lived in Rome.
“The Bear founder lives in Rome. So, that’s where the baby was taken,” Logan replied, his eyes darting from the werewolf to me and back again. “But you knew that already, Lillim.”
I took a deep breath as I mulled that over in my head. I had known he was talking about Bob when he’d said we’d need to go to Rome, but I’d really hoped Logan was going to say something else.
The idea of going to Rome and demanding a vampire who was considered a god in ancient cultures give back the child he’d gone to great effort to procure didn’t sound like something that would end well. Unfortunately, it also seemed like exactly what was going to happen. Man, I really needed to find another day job.
“What does Bob want with the kid?” I asked as I crawled to my feet and shot a nervous glance at Gib. Thankfully, the werewolf hadn’t decapitated anyone yet, but by the way he was baring his fangs, I was guessing it was still on the table.
Still, he had to be hyper-paranoid that the most powerful vampire in the world wanted his son, especially since it wasn’t likely for a play date. No, it had to be for something nefarious because vampire.
Gib snarled, the muscles in his wrist flexing as his claws bit into Logan’s flesh, which was when I realized his hand had almost completely healed. I hadn’t actually seen Gib heal. It was like trying to watch darkness fall or a flower bloom. You were sure it happened, but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact where and when of it all.
“I don’t care why the vampire took my son! I want him back. Now!” He flung the vampire aside before turning toward me with hatred-filled his eyes. His entire being contained rage so intense, his presence scared me on a primal level. “We will go and bring back my son. Both of us. You will come without complaint and without backtalk. You will do this because, at this moment, I am very close to killing you.”
Call me crazy, but I believed him, and since he might actually be able to kill me, I was inclined to do what he said. After all, I was fond of being alive. Then again, I could probably take him. You know, if I needed to do it. I just didn’t want to because of, well, reasons.
“I can’t do this with you breathing down my neck, Gib. Aside from you being an emotional basket case, Rome is filled with silver dust. Even you can’t survive there,” I said, partially because the absolute last thing I needed was for Gib to come with me and begin the search for his son by getting himself killed. He was the sort of backup that could start a werewolf-vampire war, and do you have any idea how much trouble I’d be in if I let that happen?
“Then you will go, Lillim.” Gib’s eyes raged, and a wave of emotion washed over me like a desert wind. “But do not fail.”
“How do you expect me to get to Rome?” I asked, raising my hands in an effort to placate him. “There’s no way I’m getting to Rome without a passport and parental approval.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day then, because it just so happens I have a way of transporting us to Rome,” Logan replied in weasily sort of way, as though this was a way out of his predicament or part of his plan. Honestly, it was probably both.
“Yeah, it’d be quite fortunate for you if you had a private plane handy,” I muttered with the same feeling a rat would have aboard a sinking ship.
“It just so happens that I do. I just need Dioscuri authorization to bring my plane out of the country.” Logan’s lips curled up in a slight smile. “One little signature, and I’ll take you to Rome.”
10
Rome was, in short, a hell hole. As I surveyed the ruins littering the once glorious city’s landscape, I shook my head, wishing I’d been alive to see it in all its glory. I’d heard about the explosion that had left the once-holy city in shambles, but I’d never seen it up close. There was something sort of haunting and sad about it, like when I’d gone to the site of the twin towers before they’d built the memorial. This was like that, times a zillion.
Swirling gouts of smoke leapt into the air until they melded seamlessly with the ashen sky. I hated places like this. Places where war had rendered the land unlivable. Part of it was the generic that’s-so-terrible feeling everyone gets in the pit of their stomach when they see something horrible. The other part of it was a bit tougher for me to explain.
I’d seen so many battles over the course of mine and Dirge’s lives. Hell, one had claimed my life, and no matter how hard I’d fought then, nor how hard I fought and bled and struggled, stuff like this kept occurring.
Places like this made me question the very thing that had been drilled into me since I was a baby. Since the first time my mother had left me in a werewolf den in the middle of the night on a full moon, I had been taught everything we did was for the greater good, that we had to save humanity. All of my blood, sweat, and tears were for the betterment of mankind.
Well, the monsters hiding under the beds of five-year-olds hadn’t been the ones to drop a nuke on Rome and Jerusalem. We had good old fashioned humanity to thank for that one.
I wasn’t sure why the terrorists had decided to nuke the world’s two holy cities, since it’d been done by a normal good old-fashioned human and was out of the Dioscuri’s jurisdiction, but I sort of wanted to know why. I’d even gone so far as to check around, but all I found was conspiracy theories about spies and the like.
Whatever the reason for taking out the two cities had been, it definitely wasn’t worth turning Rome into a wasteland. And to think, Rome was supposed to be a lot better than the ruins of Jerusalem. It was hard to imagine Jerusalem could be worse since Rome was home to little more than undead biker gangs and street rats.
Even though my magic was more than enough to keep me safe from the radiation, walking around the stunningly permanent reminder of the horrors of nuclear terrorism made a chill run down my spine. The sooner we got out of here, the better.
“Looks like someone struck out at God himself,” Logan said with a chuckle, plodding forward in a carefree sort of way.
I gl
owered at him and followed him toward what I hoped would be the location of the founder. I knew I couldn’t count on Logan for much, especially if things got dicey. I also knew I couldn’t count on the Dioscuri either since they didn’t even know I was here. I was on my own… again.
Though, I had to admit, filling the air with silver dust was a good way of keeping werewolves out of the place. I wonder if the vampires had done it on purpose. Probably.
“Seems like a strange place to bring a were-cub. You would think just breathing here would kill him,” I said, hoping that wasn’t the case. If it was, this had all been for naught.
As we passed a blackened building, eyes from within the structure focused restlessly on us. I wondered if we’d get attacked but pushed thoughts of that away. Chances are, whoever or whatever lived here wanted to be left alone much more than it wanted to eat us. Why else would you live in this God-forsaken wasteland?
Logan shrugged. “They say the baby was immune to silver. So, all things equal, it is the ideal place to hide him. The werewolves can’t come here to get him.”
His words made a silly little horrible thought collide with my brain. It was rumored that Dar Silver-tongue, the first Dragon Knight, had control over silver. Was it really possible that this baby was the ancient Dragon Knight reborn?
I wouldn’t have thought so. I mean, what are the chances, but as I walked along, I was starting to wonder if the new dragon showing up on my doorstep at about the same time as I’d assisted the vampires in stealing the kid might be connected. I hoped not.
If they were, I really wanted to know why the world’s most powerful vampire wanted to help this dragon by stealing this baby. I was betting the answer probably didn’t involve puppies, balloons, and birthday cake.
Logan looked at me before continuing. “That mean something in particular to you?” His eyes narrowed a little more than I’d have liked. “The silver thing?”
“I’ve just never heard of it before.” I waved him off. “Guess that happens sometimes?” I was smooth, real smooth.
“Bout one in ten, but much more common among the royals. Gib is sort of an anomaly that way. He’s the first king in a long time to be hurt by silver.” Logan shrugged, apparently buying my idle curiosity angle. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“So why do you think the founder wants the pup so badly?” I asked, hoping the vampire might let something slip. He might not know, but then again, he might.
“Only Bob could say for certain,” Logan replied and changed course. We were nearing what used to be a giant cathedral. The very essence of the ground beneath our feet changed and Logan took a quick step back. The ground was still hallowed after all these years. That shouldn’t have affected Logan much. I mean Voln was a vampire too, and he lived in a church. So why did it concern Logan?
In the distance, an ominous building jutted out of the ground like an enormous pustule. Giant, pink tendrils waved around it like cilia. Thick purple veins crisscrossed the entire structure as though the giant mass had taken on a life of its own. Logan’s lips curled into a creepy smile. “Them Bears sure have a sick sort of way with things.”
I swallowed and pushed the disgust back down my throat as we reached the structure. The very walls writhed as screaming faces pushed outward. The place was hewn from still-living people… I shivered.
I’d heard the Bears had the ability to rework flesh as though it was clay. That’s why so many of them had such huge muscles. Still, to actually go and collect people and meld them together into an actual flesh and blood structure was a real sick sort of deranged. I couldn’t imagine spending my entire life sewn into a living building. I shivered again.
The door resembled one of those medieval castle doors, the kind with giant bands of steel and a winch to open and close it. All around it, flesh oozed and pulsed. Standing next to it stood a doorman dressed from head to toe in bright orange. He seemed entirely unconcerned by the wriggling tentacles reaching out toward him from the walls. I tried to smile at him, but he just looked at me in the sort of way that indicated I ought to leave.
“I’m here to see the founder, the wonderful founder of Oz.” I waved my hands about in a wide gesture as I bounced in an annoying sort of way.
He didn’t smile, and neither did Logan. As I moved past him toward the door, he made no movement to stop me though he didn’t allow me entry, either. The handle glistened in front of me, slick with some kind of fluid I didn’t really want to touch. My stomach turned and tried to run up my throat at the thought.
“We can’t get in unless you open the door, can we?” Logan asked even though the tone of voice made me think he already knew the answer to his question.
The doorman nodded, and I glared at him. “What if I threaten to burn this place to the ground?” I said in my same annoying, cutesy voice.
The distinctive sound of several automatic weapons positioned at various points around the perimeter filled my ears. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes for a second.
“So how does one get inside?” I asked, wondering if I could use magic to shield myself and then break inside. No, if it came to that, I was just going to light the damn thing on fire. Eventually Bob would have to come out, right?
The doorman stared at me for a long time before speaking. “Invitation only.”
Normally, not being let into a creepy place wouldn’t bother me. This, unfortunately, was not one of those times. This place was basically a jigsaw puzzle made from people. This was exactly the type of thing the Dioscuri should be preventing. Instead, it sat here taunting me with its hideousness, daring me to ignore what it was. How long had it been here, being ignored by my people because they were too stretched thin or too worried about offending Bob to do anything?
Well, screw that noise. When this was all over, I was going to come back here and burn it to the ground or maybe nuke it. That would damn sure get rid of it.
“I want my baby back,” I said, grabbing the doorman by the shoulder. The guard’s hand clamped down on my wrist in a way that suggested he was used to overpowering people. Gross hideout or not, no damn vampire was going to refuse me access when he was the one who stole the baby I had kidnapped fair and square.
“Miss, I think you had best leave,” he said, still not realizing what was about to happen to him. Inside my rage was already building. It was the only way I could keep myself in control. If I didn’t focus on my anger, didn’t use my hatred as a shield, I was going to break down.
Behind me, Logan was backing away. Pissing off a founder was a good way to get dead, and beating up one of his guards was very likely to piss Bob off. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have purposely done so, but these weren’t normal circumstances. I mean, a kid’s life was at stake.
Unfortunately, the last vampire founder I’d fought had been ridiculously powerful, and Bob, the Bears’ founder, was supposed to be stronger. While he didn’t do some of the melt-your-brain-with-his-eyes stuff the other founder did, he was more than capable of punching my lights out and adding me to his meat structure. The thought sobered me. How many of these faces were his enemies? Probably a lot of them. Now that I thought about it, this was probably the vampire equivalent of mounting your enemies’ heads on a stake outside your castle door. Well, I’d just have to make sure I kicked him in the balls before he could do that.
“I’m going to ask you nicely. Please get me an audience with the founder,” I said, my other hand twirling in the air as I gathered my power for a truly impressive show of force.
The doorman’s headset chirped, and he released my hand. “Okay, Ma’am. You may come inside, but the vampire stays out here.”
With a melodramatic gesture, he stepped to the side and swung the large door open. Admittedly as I released the magic I’d been calling, I was a little concerned at how easy that had been. I hadn’t even had to hurt anyone. Man, what did that say about me that something going as planned gets me concerned?
As I stepped through the doorway,
darkness closed in all around me. The inside of the room felt like wet breath. It was warm, sticky, and made my skin crawl. I shivered in the nearly empty room. There was a resounding slam as the door shut behind me and a slight buzz overhead as a fluorescent lamp flickered to life. The whitewashed walls were lined with utility benches with stools strewn between them every so often. In the adjoining hallway, a series of wire-frame cabinets sat perched along the wall, filled with various bins. It sort of reminded me of a mechanics workshop, only I wasn’t sure what Bob worked on here.
The odd feeling I was being watched caused my hair to stand on end. I whirled around to face a person who I suspected had been there all along. How had he gotten between me and the door?
The Bear founder stood unmoving, time having stripped away all nonessential action from his body. His black hair was slicked back, so he looked like John Travolta in Grease, only instead of having a dopey grin on his face, his lips were curled into an annoyed grimace.
“Hello, Bob,” I said, giving him a low curtsy.
As the vampire stared at me from behind a pair of expensive looking sunglasses, his large, bulky body shifted, allowing me to take sight of his two legendary weapons. They were gigantic blades and were both way too large for a normal person to heft even with both hands. I knew from my classes back home, he was known to easily wield one in each. The swords, Frost and Melt, were named after the dragons of fire and ice who had supposedly given them to him when time was new and the earth was young.
Seeing them didn’t make me feel warm and cozy, let me tell you. It was like falling through the floor into ancient ruins and realizing that instead of discovering an awesome archaeological find, you were instead trapped in a crumbling city filled with monsters. Let’s just say the coolness of seeing his ancient swords was outweighed by the possibility of him using them on me.
It was rumored that during an attack on him in New Orleans, he had used them to slice a hundred werewolves into twain in less than a minute. They said each time he swung one of the massive blades, someone had died. Impressive, sure. But when you’re physically strong enough to throw a tanker truck, killing someone with a sword isn’t that difficult. He probably swung the things at a couple hundred miles an hour.
The Lillim Callina Chronicles: Volumes 1-3 Page 8
