“I beg to differ…”
“I agreed to your presence because I felt it was a fair request, not because I was bound by our agreement. I’m under no obligation to help you. Furthermore, please note that at no point did the contract specify that you or any other representative of the People became part of the Order’s investigation into the disappearance of Jessica Olsen. So far, you have done your best to impede this investigation by nearly sabotaging my rendezvous with the witches. As an Order representative, it’s my duty to advise you that further attempts to hinder the Order’s activities will not be tolerated. That said, since I’m also a representative of the Mercenary Guild, if you require protection from the witches, I’m sure we can come to a reasonable agreement on my retainer. I dislike bodyguard detail but since you’re an old acquaintance, I’ll make an exception.”
The vampire stared at me with an expression of utter shock on its face.
“Who are you?” Ghastek said finally. “And what have you done with Kate?”
“I’m the person whose job it is to settle disputes between the Order and the Guild. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I spend this time reading the Order’s Charter and the Guild’s Manual. Would you prefer if I went back to my normal mode of conversation?”
“I think so.”
“You underestimated the witches, mouthed off, and got punked. Don’t come crying to me.”
I picked up a chicken wing. Food. Finally.
Derek snarled. It was a low snarl, a deep, threatening warning of barely contained violence.
I turned. Feet wide, back humped, he stood stiff, facing the wall of green that surrounded Centennial Park. His hackles rose, his black lips drew up revealing huge white fangs, and out came another growl. The hair on the back of my neck rose.
I set the wings on the curb and reached for Slayer. My fingers touched the leather of the saber’s hilt. Like a handshake with an old friend.
The vampire slunk low to the ground.
I surveyed the trees. From the massive roots to the tops, etched against the garish orange and gold of the sunset, the dense mass of green looked impenetrable.
The first reeve sailed over the green, her translucent skin bathed in red, her hair flaring like enormous black wings, ready to smother.
No smothering today. The tech was up.
Her twin followed. Another, and another. Five. Six, more…How many could the Shepherd drive at once?
They were still in the air when I charged. The first reeve came at me, legs pumping, arms flung wide, gliding as if she didn’t have to touch the ground.
“Mine!”
The vampire smashed into her, knocking her out of the way, and leaped on her back. The sickle claws hooked the reeve’s pale neck. The vamp pulled and tore off her head with a single muscle-ripping jerk.
“They’re poisonous!” I yelled for Derek’s benefit and aimed for the second reeve. She whipped her hair at me, but I had room to maneuver. I dodged the black mass, and struck diagonally down, guessing there was flesh under the hair. Slayer connected and sliced into meat. It was a textbook slash—I had pulled the entire length of the blade through the wound. Her head drooped, connected to the stump of the neck by a thin strip of skin and meat. She crashed to the ground.
To the left Derek dug into the back of the third reeve with an enormous clawed hand and ripped the shard of her spine free with a brutal heave.
The vampire dashed across the field and beheaded another reeve.
I kept running. The next reeve met me head-on. I slashed again, an almost identical diagonal stroke but coming from the left. She dodged, but I reversed the blade and struck sideways instead. Slayer cleaved the flesh and broke free. Grayish blood sprayed in a fine mist. She toppled over and then another reeve fell on me. Claws scraped the heavy leather protecting my chest, ripping through it. A wall of hair clogged my view. I thrust myself closer to the reeve, right into her teeth. The stench of fish guts washed over my face.
She had expected me to pull away, and her surprise cost her a precious half second. Cocooned in her hair, I hugged her like a lover, and thrust my saber straight up into the soft flesh under her chin. She rocked back. To the left Derek raised his bloody muzzle from the ruined back of the fifth reeve.
“Don’t bite!” Dumbass. Perfect wolf for you—isn’t happy until he’s got poisonous shit smeared all over his teeth.
The vamp had backed the last reeve flush against the trees. “I can’t help but point out that they don’t deliquesce.”
The reeve hissed. Claws broke through her knuckles.
“They melt like the wicked witch of the west when the magic’s up.”
The vampire glided closer to the reeve. “So you say.”
Why wasn’t he killing it?
A shiver ran along the bloodsucker’s flanks. It hugged the ground. The reeve hissed again and froze, petrified. Convulsions rippled down her long legs.
No. He couldn’t possibly.
“You’re out of your mind.”
“We’re only a mile from the Casino. Well within my range.” Ghastek’s voice sounded distant like it came from the bottom of a barrel. The reeve and vampire shivered in tandem.
“You can’t navigate them both!”
“We shall see.”
No, we won’t. I headed for the reeve, saber ready.
The reeve swayed on her feet and slashed at the vampire. Scarlet lines swelled across the vamp’s chest and sealed.
“I’m so glad you decided to play,” Ghastek’s voice said from the vampire’s mouth.
“Hey, would you look at that shit?”
I turned on my heel. The patrons who’d fled at the first hint of trouble had come back and were enjoying the spectacle.
“Clear out!” I barked.
They paid me no mind. Asshole innocent bystanders.
The reeve’s mouth gaped open and Shepherd’s voice issued forth, dry and sibilant, full of echoes of dead leaves crushed underfoot. “Surrender, human.”
“Bolgor the Shepherd, I presume?” The vamp reared.
A spasm gripped the reeve. She crashed to her knees, her shoulders trembling. The Shepherd rasped. “You cannot stop us. The gate of the Otherworld yawns wide. The Great Crow leads the host. Look into the darkness, human, and you will see your death riding to greet you!”
“That’s a lovely speech. Almost Shakespearean.” Ghastek’s vamp rocked forward and the reeve mirrored its motion.
Magic drenched us. Instantly the bodies littering the ground melted into sluice.
The black mass of the reeve’s hair snapped. Thick cords bound the vampire, squeezing its throat. The bloodsucker made no move to resist. I was almost to them.
The puddle to the left of me shrunk, evaporating at a record rate, but before it vanished completely I saw it shake and felt the ground kick my feet.
A loud thud came from the right. A rickety wooden wagon at the northern intersection rocked and crashed onto its side, splintering into shards. A hulking figure emerged from the wreck: eight feet tall, green, moving ponderously on columnar legs, his head topped by a horned helmet. At least one hundred pounds of chain mail wrapped around his torso. His shoulders would’ve made Andre the Giant weep. A long meaty tail hung from under the chain mail, shaking as he ran.
“Kneel before Ugad, the Great Crow’s Hammer!” The Shepherd hissed in triumph.
Ugad the Hammer, huh? “You’ve got delusions of grandeur. ‘Bubba’ would’ve done him just fine.”
The juggernaut stomped toward us. The spectators scattered like so many mice. Stunned into sudden silence, the fetish vendor gaped at the approaching monstrosity. He fumbled at his charms and shook a small circle of ribbon at the monster. Ugad paid it no mind. His right thigh brushed the cart, spinning it onto the sidewalk. Bright charms spilled in a calico mess on the pavement.
The monster accelerated. With a shock I realized he wore no helmet. Those were his horns, growing from the skull covered with swirls of tattoos.
Behind me the vampire hissed. I glanced at it. The reeve had backed away. The vampire sat alone. Ruby-red eyes glared at me full of hunger, unleashed, unchained, all consuming. No navigator rode this mind.
“Ghastek!”
No answer. Ghastek had lost him.
The vamp gathered like a coiled spring, leaped at me, claws poised for the kill…
A shaggy body rammed the vampire in mid jump. With a snarl, Derek dragged the bloodsucker down. The vampire sank its fangs into his shoulder.
Ugad bore down on me.
I dodged left and sliced at the tendon in the back of Ugad’s knee. The cut should’ve taken him down, but instead he spun around. A huge tail swung at me, the meaty protrusion at the end whistling like a club hurtling through the air with great speed. I jumped aside and sliced at the tail. The monster moaned and backhanded me. I saw it coming, but caught between his tail and the hand, I had nowhere to go.
The blow swept me off my feet. I flew and landed hard on my shoulder, sliding across the asphalt. The impact numbed my back.
I jumped to my feet and rolled, just as the tail swung over my head. A huge foot chased me and stomped the asphalt where my head was a moment ago. Ugad bellowed in frustration, making the thick network of veins on his neck bulge. So many places to cut. If only I could make him shorter, so I could get up there.
Another stomp. I leaped back.
Ugad swiped at me. I stood still for him. Whatever it takes to get to the target. A shovel-sized hand closed about me, pinning my sword arm, and dragged me up, off my feet, toward Ugad’s piggish eyes. My bones groaned in protest.
The monster’s face swung into view. His dim eyes lit up with cruel glee under the tangled mess of tattoos on its forehead. The tattoos…
The jagged lines etched on his scalp suddenly made sense, flowing into a word of power. Pain exploded at the base of my skull and drowned the world in a bright fiery splash. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t scream, I felt nothing. Caught in a typhoon of pain, I wrestled with the word. I had to make it mine or it would fry my mind. I had to say it.
A clump blocked my throat. My voice refused to obey. Pain shot and twisted through my body, as if tiny needles pierced every cell of me. The pain burst and I screamed the word to escape it. “Osanda!”
It hurt so much.
I am dying.
The reality rushed at me with crystal crispness. The monster’s knees hit the asphalt. White shards of broken bone thrust through the ruptured muscle. Ugad moaned, a sound filled with bewilderment and pain.
Kneel. The word commanded the target to kneel. I had been hoping for “eat dirt and die.”
Ugad crushed me, shaking me with the last of his strength. Compared with the pain of the power word, the steel vise of his fingers felt almost weak.
Never mind comparing—kill now, compare later.
I passed Slayer into my left hand and slashed across Ugad’s thick neck, opening a wet, red second mouth under his chin. Red and gray blood gushed. The monster’s maw gaped open in one last, silent scream. He released me and toppled forward, breaking into liquid as he hit the ground. Greasy fluid splashed me. My lips burned from contact with an alien magic.
I spat, trying to wipe away enough goo to open my eyes and only getting more goo onto my face. I tasted blood sharp with my magic on my lips. A nosebleed. Shit. I fumbled for the gauze, or I’d have to set the whole scene on fire to hide my magic. I pulled it blindly from my pocket and wiped my face, finally clawing my eyes open.
The bloodsucker lay broken, its chest a mess of crushed ribs, a trail of wet, soft clumps that used to be its heart leading from its body to Derek, who sprawled on his back, unmoving.
The reeve hovered over Derek’s prone form. Her hair bound his throat. At least forty feet separated us. I would not make it in time.
The Shepherd’s whisper emanated from the reeve’s mouth. “Surrender or it dies.”
I dropped the gauze and slid my hand up my thigh to the throwing dagger on my belt.
“It dies!” the Shepherd hissed.
I hurled the dagger. The blade bit into the reeve’s head, popping her eye like a ripe grape. The impact knocked her back and I threw the shark teeth at her, one after another. The short triangular blades punctured her throat and cheeks. She rocked forward, stared at me with the gaping hole of her eye socket, and broke into water.
I ran to Derek, and I put my head on his chest. Heartbeat. Strong, solid heartbeat.
The vamp’s blood smeared his whole head. I couldn’t tell if he was hurt.
“Derek! Derek!” God, whoever you are, I’ll do anything, please don’t let him die.
His eyelids trembled. Monstrous mouth opened. He sat up slowly.
“Where does it hurt?” I nearly slapped myself. Only the most accomplished of the shapeshifters could speak in half-form. Derek wasn’t one of them.
“Everrrryear.” The word came out mangled but recognizable.
“Everywhere?”
He nodded. “Okray.”
“You’re okay?”
He nodded again.
I wanted to cry with relief. My chest felt heavy like it was full of lead. “You can speak in half-form.”
“Yeahhh. Veen praaasing.”
“Been practicing. That’s good.” I laughed a little. “That’s real good.”
He grinned. Bloody shreds of vampiric meat stretched from between his crooked fangs, wet with drool, and I nearly lost my lunch. “Come on, pretty boy, before this place swarms with People, or we’ll never get out of here.”
I found my gauze, grabbed the horses, and we took off down the street just as the first smear of necromantic magic announced the arrival of the vampiric scouts.
CHAPTER 18
DEREK FAVORED HIS LEFT SIDE. HIS HORSE REFUSED to bear him. I couldn’t blame the horse. I wouldn’t want his demonic, undead-blood-smeared, wolf-smelling ass riding me, either. But it made us slow.
Three blocks away I commandeered a rickety buggy from an old woman. Commandeered was too strong a word—I flashed my ID and promised her far more money then I had at my disposal. Considering that I still had my sword out and my hair and face were decorated a lovely brown shade of drying blood, she decided arguing too much wasn’t in her best interests. In fact, she told me I could have the buggy if I didn’t hurt her.
I told her to bill the Order, packed Derek into the buggy, hitched the horses to the back, and drove the big dappled draft horse to the Order.
Within five minutes Derek fell asleep. His skin split, shivered, and a huge gray wolf lay in his place. The beast-form took a lot of concentration to maintain. Left to its own devices, a shapeshifter’s body went either man or animal in a hurry. I guess with the flare, the animal must’ve taken less energy. And that was the trouble with shapeshifters. They were psychotic, fanatically loyal to the Pack, and they needed a nap or a dinner every time they exerted themselves.
But then if I went up against an aged vampire gone berserk, I’d want a nap, too. He killed a vampire. By himself. No help, no magic, just his teeth, and claws, and raw determination. Bloody amazing. I had the next wolf alpha in my buggy. Here’s hoping he’d remember me when he made it into the big leagues.
The sunset burned down to nothing. The magic crashed again, hard. Not a trace of it remained, yet the city knew it was there, waiting like a hungry predator in the night, ready to pounce.
My head pounded. My ribs ached with every breath, but nothing seemed to be broken. Thank the Universe for small favors.
Gradually my brain started up, at first slowly, like a rusted watermill, then faster, trying to sort through the nonsense the Shepherd spouted. He had said something about the Great Crow leading the host. A host of reeves could do a lot of damage. I didn’t want to dwell on the full implication of that mental picture.
So a host of reeves with the Great Crow in the lead. The Great Crow could stand for Morrigan, except that Bran turned a reeve by the pit into a porcupine, and Bran served Morrigan. Only a ma
n worried about offending his patron goddess would’ve balked like he did at the idea of swearing by her name.
So Morrigan and Bran on one side, and the Fomorians and the Great Crow on the other. So far we had stayed strongly in the realm of Celtic mythology. I couldn’t recall any Great Crows in Irish mythology other than Morrigan. Esmeralda had all those books in her trailer…maybe one of them would mention this Great Crow.
It would only take fifteen minutes to detour to my apartment. Derek’s breathing was even, he wasn’t bleeding, and he didn’t seem in distress. I wanted to check on Julie, but fifteen minutes wouldn’t make that much difference.
Why did the Fomorians attack me in the first place? That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. First they attacked Red, who had stumbled onto them, or at least so he claimed. Then they attacked Julie. Now they attacked me. Why? What would make them risk a confrontation with a vampire and a werewolf, not taking into account the fact that I had already made three reeves into wet and smelly spots. Revenge? The Shepherd didn’t strike me as a hotheaded, “revenge at all costs” type. He was more of a calculating, “friz-ice in his veins” kind of enemy.
I replayed the chronology of the events in my head, trying to find some form of connection. First, Red got jumped by reeves and had his neck scratched. Next, he and Julie went to look for her mother at the Sisters’ gathering place. From there, I took Julie home. Red followed us and gave Julie a monisto. The reeves attacked Julie. Then I left Julie in the vault and the reeves attacked me.
That last bit made no sense. An attack on me and Julie in my apartment I could understand. Then, the odds were clearly in the Shepherd’s favor. But attacking me the second time, when I had a werewolf and a vampire with me? And out in the open? It’s almost as if he had been desperate.
And how did they find me? They didn’t track me by scent. Atlanta’s streets are too polluted to provide a good scent trail. They didn’t track me by sight, either. They would’ve had to be close to do so, and Derek would’ve smelled them.
The only way they could have tracked me was by magic.
Magic Burns Page 17
