Ghastek in all his glory. Clinical “R” Us.
I sighed. Was there any remote chance that he would get to the point of his visit this morning? Time was a-wasting and I needed to leave to look for Julie’s mother. “My schedule is a bit cluttered this morning. I would appreciate it if we could get down to business.”
“Our patrol sighted an unusual undead last night,” Ghastek said. “Prehensile hair, claws, very interesting power signature.”
Claws, huh. I replayed the fight in my mind. The claws only came out when the reeve was closing in for a kill. Two reeves had attacked my apartment within minutes of each other, but the third didn’t show up until much later. It was delayed. I took a stab in the dark. “So how quickly did this weird undead dispose of your patrol?”
If Ghastek was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Under ten seconds.”
“That’s a bit sad, don’t you think?”
“It was a young vampire. We just got him.”
Excuses, excuses. “I fail to see how it concerns me.”
“We traced the power signature to your apartment. Which is in a state of advanced disrepair, from what could be seen through the window. Although it does appear to have a new door. I take it the old one was destroyed?”
“In a very dramatic way.”
The vampire paused. Here we go.
“The People would like to obtain this specimen.”
Knock yourself out. Ghastek was arguably the best Master of the Dead in the city. He had the best journeymen and the best vampires. The look on Ghastek’s face, once he wasted several of those prized bloodsuckers trying to capture a reeve only to have it turn into sludge, would be priceless.
“Your smile has a disturbing edge to it,” Ghastek observed.
I kept smiling. “I can’t help it.”
“Since the incident took place in your apartment, the People would like to request your assistance in this matter. What do you know, Kate?”
“I know very little,” I warned.
“Share it with me anyway.”
The People really wanted a reeve. Perhaps piloting good old vampires just didn’t do it for them anymore. “What’s in it for me?”
“Monetary compensation.”
The day I took People’s money would be the day I gave up on being a human. “Not interested. Any other offers?”
The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp’s mouth, and pulled them up by their edges.
“What are you doing?” Ghastek asked.
“My hole puncher broke.”
“You have no respect for the undead.”
I sighed, examining the ragged tears in the forms. “It’s a personal failing. Have you thought of anything, or can I be on my way?”
“I will owe you a favor,” Ghastek said. “Now or in the future, at your request, I will perform a task of your choosing, provided it doesn’t require me to cause direct harm to myself or my crew.”
I considered. It was a hefty offer. In the hands of an experienced Master of the Dead, a vampire was a weapon like no other, and Ghastek wasn’t just experienced, he was talented. A favor from him could come in handy. And even if he got his greedy mittens on a reeve, he would put it through its paces, trying to determine the extent of its powers. The moment it suffered a serious injury, it would turn into sludge. What was the downside?
“Maxine?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Ghastek promised me a favor for my assistance. Do we have any paperwork that would put this arrangement into written form?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have me sign a contract?”
“Yep.”
The vampire emitted a series of strangled creaks, and I realized it was trying to reproduce Ghastek’s laugh.
DEREK WANDERED INTO THE OFFICE AND LEANED against the wall, his arms crossed.
“Your associate is still alive,” Ghastek said, reading through the forms. “Remarkable.”
“He’s hardy.”
The fact that Ghastek’s signature looked exactly the way it did when he signed the document in person was a greater testament to his control than any wall crawling or claw waving. I had to admire the degree of his competency. He still made my skin crawl.
“I’m all ears,” he said once Maxine took the paperwork back to her desk.
“Two days ago a coven of amateur witches disappeared from their meeting place at the bottom of the Honeycomb Gap. I visited the place on unrelated business and discovered a bottomless pit and lots of residual necromantic magic. Lots of blood. No bodies.”
“Go on.”
“I picked up the daughter of one of the witches.”
“The child that ran into your office a few minutes ago,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle her.”
“Yes.” I didn’t particularly feel like explaining that Julie had a vampire phobia and since magic was down, she couldn’t detect the vampiric power signature. “She asked me for help. I’ve extended the Order’s protection to her.” So don’t start getting any ideas. “I took the child to my apartment. During the night we were attacked.”
“How many of them were there?”
“Three, not including the navigator.”
The vampire went rigid. “There was a navigator?”
“Yes.”
“Human?”
“Not exactly.”
I described Bolgor the Shepherd, focusing on his tentacles, and the reeves, going into detail on the hair, claws, and toxic goo on said claws. I explained the sea-demon angle, although I didn’t tell him how I got the information. I could’ve led him on regarding their peculiar dying habits, but a bargain was a bargain so I came clean and expanded on the whole melting into sludge thing. I did gloss over my near demise, shortening it to “I was stabbed in the back, after which I dispatched the reeve and called to my associate, who picked me up and transported me to the medmage.” Which was almost true. To the best of my awareness, nobody knew I could pilot vampires, and it was essential for my safety that things remained that way.
The vampire went into statue mode while Ghastek processed the information. The People consider themselves to have a monopoly on all things necromantic. The idea of a third-party navigator running around the city, even if he was a demon, had to grate on Ghastek. “The moniker Shepherd interests me. It could refer to his ability to navigate.”
I tapped my nails against the desk. “I strongly suggest you abandon pursuit of the reeves. They turn into goo once critically injured.”
“That’s truly unfortunate, but I wish to ascertain that fact for myself. Do you have reason to believe this Shepherd would return for the girl?” Ghastek asked. He was wondering if the reeves were the Sisters of the Crow, brought into the undeath by some strange power they had released. I had wondered it, too.
“The girl is in the vault. If he does, he’s out of luck.”
“What are your plans?”
“I’m going to go and visit an expert who might help me sort through this mess. I understand the Fomorians’ desire to annihilate Morrigan, but I don’t know how they came to be in the city, what they want with the child, or why they targeted that particular coven. I know that the coven had worshipped Morrigan, but the head witch was performing druidic sacrificial rites in her trailer. The two don’t go together.”
“Why not go see the Order of Druids?” Derek asked.
Ghastek shifted the vamp a few inches. “No, she’s right. The Druids spent years trying to distance themselves from their heritage. The moment they hear ‘sacrifice,’ they’ll refuse to communicate. It’s a PR nightmare. A third party expert would be best.”
I rose. “And the sooner I see him, the better. As you always say, it was a pleasure.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“I’m sorry, I think I misheard.”
The vampire spread its arms, the huge yellow claws adding another three inches to i
ts long digits. “Considering the value of my offer, you didn’t give me nearly enough. We both signed the contract, Kate. It stated ‘full and substantial disclosure of any information pertaining to the creature in question.’ What you gave me was by no means substantial.”
How do I get myself into these things?
Derek pushed off the wall, his jaw set. I stepped between him and the vampire. “Very well. Feel free to come along. You understand that there is no guarantee we’ll encounter any more reeves?”
“Oh, I think we will. You’ve cost him three undead. I don’t know of any Master of the Dead that wouldn’t want to get even.”
Before we left, I chased the werewolf and the vampire out of my office and changed my clothes. Over the years I’ve learned to leave extra clothes at convenient places, and my office offered changes of clothes and gear. Pack sweats were nice and all, but after fun games with the reeves’ claws I wanted something a bit thicker. I put on loose brown pants and a white heat-gear T-shirt. Made of a quick-drying microfiber, it wicked moisture from my body, keeping me dry and cool despite the heat of the summer. SWAT wore these seamless T-shirts under armor. I added a leather vest, securing the strings tight enough to be able to move, and completed my kick-butt outfit with a pair of combat boots: black leather toes, leather heels, and black nylon mesh sides. Almost light enough to play tennis in.
I spun and kicked at my shadow on the wall, adjusted the left vest seam to hug my body better, and slid Slayer’s sheath into the rings along the vest’s back.
Next, I took my dog-eared Craft Chronicle off the shelf, found the mirror lock spell, put a pencil on the right page to use as a bookmark, and went down the long concrete staircase into the vault. Hidden behind a foot-thick steel door lay five rooms storing everything from weapons and books to objects of minor power, the inventory the Knights of the Order felt was prudent to keep on hand. The foremost room contained a sink, a fridge, sleeping bags, even a closet-sized bathroom.
Andrea was already there, loading firearms and laying them out on the table. Julie froze when I came in. I thought we were past that. I tried my best to grin. “Getting settled?”
“Andrea has jerky and there is pizza.” Her voice wilted. Any kid would be thrilled about the pizza. Boy, it just wasn’t going too well with me and her today.
“I’m sorry you’re mad at me. I brought you a book to read.”
I put Craft Chronicle on the table.
She didn’t say anything.
Oh, screw it.
I stepped right across the heavy silence hanging between us and hugged her. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Stay here. Andrea is very cool. You’ll be safe with her.” She looked about to cry. “Who knows, I might come back with your mom.” I’d go to hell for making promises like that. Straight to hell with no detours.
“You think so?”
“I hope so,” I told her. “I’ve got my saber and I’ve got my belt.” I touched the belt, equipped with a half dozen pouches containing herbs and silver needles.
“Batman belt!” Julie said.
“That’s right, Barbara. Protect the cave while I’m gone.”
Julie took the monisto off her neck. “Here. I’m not giving it to you. I’m just letting you borrow it for a little while. You’ll bring it back, right?”
“Right.” I slid the monisto into a pocket under my leather.
Andrea and I nodded to each other and I went.
CHAPTER 13
WE MOVED THROUGH THE STREETS OF BUCKHEAD AT a brisk pace. Few things looked stranger than a vampire forced to run on the ground. No longer bipedal but still too disjointed to achieve good speed on all fours, it loped forward in a jerky gait, leaping and running, at times pressing low to the ground and at others jumping too high. Its gallop was completely soundless, betrayed neither by a scrape of the claw on the asphalt nor a whisper of an errant breath. A vampire belonged to the night, to the darkness, hidden from the world, a stealthy and deadly assassin. Out here, brazen in the sunshine of early afternoon, in full view of the stately old mansions drowning in verdant greenery, it looked grotesque, unreal, a nightmare come to life.
I watched the vampire and couldn’t help but think of Julie. She had this abandoned look on her face. But to make any headway, I had to understand what was going on, and for that I needed Saiman. Hopefully, he would give me enough information to sort through this tangled mess, and then I could go back and check on her. She would be behind the wards. In the vault. Nothing should go wrong.
Something always could go wrong.
But as long as she didn’t leave the vault, she should be okay. Nothing should force her to leave. Unless there was a fire. Was there anything flammable down there?
I stopped. That way lay insanity.
The vamp crossed the road in front of us for the fourth time. The Order’s horses had been trained to work with all sorts of creatures, but no matter how much you train a horse, it still remained a horse. They didn’t like the vampire. They didn’t buck, but they danced in place and shied.
“I think he’s doing it on purpose,” Derek growled under his breath.
“He is. He hates horses,” I told him. “Allergies.”
The purple vampire loped along on the right side of the street and launched itself at the telephone pole. The undead climbed with a gecko’s agility to about twelve feet, took its bearings, and casually jumped down to resume its bizarre gallop. Normally it would snow in mid-June before the People let a bloodsucker out in full daylight. The sunlight blistered their skin within minutes of exposure. Unless, of course, they were smothered in a quarter-inch-thick layer of purple sunblock. I wondered what possessed him to take the risk anyway.
“Ghastek? What happens to the Casino during a flare?”
He took a few seconds before he answered. “Lockdown. The Casino grounds all vampires. All personnel are pulled in and put on high alert. The Casino is shuttered and locked. All nonemergency communication with the outside world is restricted.”
If the flare made all magic stronger, than the vampires, in turn, experienced a surge in power. How many necromancers would it take to keep them put? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Nor would I want to be there when the steel chains holding the bloodsuckers within their stables started snapping.
Ghastek drew parallel to my horse, and she tossed her head back.
“How much farther?” Derek asked.
“Patience is a virtue,” Ghastek advised.
“Lecturing a wolf about patience is unwise.” That was the first time Derek condescended to addressing Ghastek directly, and his face plainly showed he felt quite soiled by having to stoop so low.
“Should I find myself speaking to an animal for some bewildering reason, I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Are the two of you finished?”
“Quite,” Ghastek said.
“Nothing to finish.” Derek shrugged.
I sighed.
“Does our bickering displease you?” The vamp leaped straight up long enough to look me in the face.
“No. My ability to get myself into these situations displeases me. It’s a special talent of mine.” I turned to Derek. “The expert lives at Champion Heights. We’re almost there.”
“The old Lenox Pointe?”
“Yes.”
“He does alright for himself,” Derek said.
“Indeed.” And I would have to empty my bank account to pay for the information he would provide.
Magic didn’t like skyscrapers. It didn’t like anything new and technologically complicated, period, but it especially hated tall buildings. Ever since the Shift, Atlanta’s skyscrapers had rocked, crumbled, and fallen, like exhausted titans on sand legs.
Against this new jagged skyline, Champion Heights stood out like a sore thumb. Seventeen stories tall, it towered above Buckhead thanks to the deep pockets of its owners and a complicated spell nobody had thought would work. The spell worked just fine: the high-rise still loomed above decrepit buildings, cl
ouded with haze, shifting back and forth between the brick and glass building and a tall granite spire, as the complex web of spells worked tirelessly to support the illusion which permitted its existence. The cost of maintaining an apartment in Champion Heights approached astronomical.
The magic hit, so thick my heart skipped a beat. Derek clenched his teeth. His face strained, muscles on his forearms bulged, and his eyes flooded with yellow.
The hair on the back of my arms rose. The intense cold fire of those eyes chilled me. He was on the verge of going furry.
“You okay?”
His lips quivered. The fire in his eyes died to its usual soft brown. “Yeah,” he said. “Took me by surprise.”
The vampire kept galloping as if nothing had happened.
“Ghastek, you okay?”
He offered Derek a smile. “Never better. Unlike Pack members, the People don’t tolerate losses of control.”
Derek’s eyes flashed gold. “If I lose control, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I’m quite perturbed by the idea.”
We turned the corner. A granite crag greeted us, nestled within artfully landscaped shrubs. The crag rose, completely sheer, until it brushed the sky, where snowdrifts edged its scarred weather-worn top. A flock of birds launched themselves into flight from its top, the setting sun gleaming on their backs and wings. They circled the building once and took off for places unknown.
“Whoa,” Derek said. “I thought it was supposed to look like a rock, not be a rock.”
“Our furry companion once again forgets the advance of a flare,” Ghastek said.
“If the two of you don’t stop, I’ll send you home.”
The flare had turned Champion Heights into a granite spire. And it wasn’t even going full force yet. We were just getting the preview of what was to come.
Magic Burns Page 13
