Now I will get my reckoning.
Viviane lounged in his chair with her feet on his desk.
He frowned, but didn’t correct her. Their association came with certain benefits he was loathe to sacrifice over such a minor slight.
“I understand you had a tête-à-tête with our new water phoenix.”
“And if I did?” she asked.
“That leads me to believe the loss of her egg was no accident.”
“You have tunnel vision when it comes to Quayla. I assured you didn’t waste an opportunity you worked so hard to achieve.”
Dunham forced his voice to remain calm. “Was she meant to escape you?”
“Was she meant to escape you?” Viviane cocked her head.
Cold washed into him as if he were drowning in an icy lake. Her glib tone knotted his guts, but she’d been known to play with his emotions for her own amusement.
Either way, I have to be sure.
He pushed through the secret door into Viviane’s office. The wall of retractable, soundproof doors gaped open, exposing her opulent apartments to view. Dunham turned aside, ascending a spiral stair two at a time.
The cages came into view. The air phoenix slept in a heap at the base of her bell jar.
Heat wavered the air around the view window in the cage built of hafnium carbide. The viewing glass and air capillaries twisted through layers of the heat resistant ceramic were the only weak points in his design—the glass was the only part susceptible to damage from temperatures over four thousand degrees Celsius.
The birdcage of toxin laden graphene nanotube stood empty as did the aquarium glass containment unit he’d designed to augment the magical barriers restraining the other phoenixes.
He whirled around. “How did the Vitae escape?”
A nonplus Viviane didn’t even seem winded from the mad rush up to his chambers. “He never arrived.”
“I saw her kill him.”
Viviane shrugged. “No plan is perfect.”
Dunham snapped up a nearby chair and hurled it at her.
She sidestepped without haste. “Temper, Dunham dear.”
“I followed the grimoire’s instructions to the letter. You swore that the stones were authentic and the containment spell matched one used successfully in the past.”
“They were.”
“I augmented the trap with custom cages designed from the most advanced materials available. This set up has cost years and billions.”
“And?” Viviane studied her nails.
“And how the hell did she get out?”
Viviane shrugged. “She turned into water and exited through the feed lines for the pentagram.”
“Fine, but she should still be caged in the summoning circle.”
“She found a crack,” Viviane shook her head. “If it’s any consolation, escaping in that manner must have been beyond excruciating.”
Dunham turned so that his back faced the phoenixes watching him as well as Viviane. Part of him wanted to rage, but he forced himself to calm. Haste and anger would forge mistakes. Not all was lost. He still had enough of Quayla’s and Vitae’s essence to perform the summoning ritual.
Dunham folded his hands behind his back and marched neared the Pyri’s cage. “By what name do you answer, fire phoenix?”
Unlike air, earth and water cages, the fire cage didn’t have to be vacuum sealed. If the Pyri managed to generate enough heat to melt the view glass that allowed them to meet gazes and somehow managed to squeeze out the small rectangle, he still wouldn’t be able to escape the magical barrier.
Eyes the color of glowing coals glared daggers at Dunham.
Dunham extended a hand.
Viviane fished a ruby, gold and silver egg from an inscribed bag resting on the billiard table. She walked it over with a casual seductiveness that she never seemed to shake.
Dunham took the egg from her and squeezed.
The edges of the Pyri’s eyes tightened, but unlike Caelum, the fire phoenix gave no indication of the pain.
Dunham squeezed harder. “Answer me, shield.”
Coal eyes blazed hotter. “Ignis.”
“Good,” Dunham cooed. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced, Ignis. My name is Dunham Heffernan. I’m an old friend of Quayla’s—oh, and I’m also your new master.”
“You are not our master. We serve the Undying Light.”
“It would be disruptive and not a little juvenile to force you to hit yourself while telling you to stop just to prove you wrong.” Dunham bent, sliding the fire egg into the basin socket designed to accept it. “As I told Caelum, you will need to produce essence for rebirth since you will be dying in my service. If you fail to do so and are reborn in your egg, I will smash it.”
“Smash it, I’ll take True Death over serving you,” Ignis said.
“Fire.” Dunham shook his head. “Viviane warned me you might be the hardest to control. Sure, stone is stubborn, but fire is too wild for its own good.”
He stood back up, extending his hand once more. Viviane handed over another object without a word.
Dunham held up a flaming ruby. “That’s why I took the precaution of securing your heart too.”
Ignis threw himself at the cage, light and heat flaring behind the glass. In no time the fire burned the thick transparent material black enough to block all visibility.
“Thank you, Ignis,” Dunham said. “That ceramic can take more heat than you can generate, but waste not want not. That’s why I incorporated a sealed liquid sodium cooling system and heat exchanger. Your little tantrum just powered my building for a week.
“Now, you can continue helping my bottom line or you can tell me why your Vitae wasn’t reborn here when he died.”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t—”
Dunham passed a hand over the heart and chanted.
Ignis shrieked and convulsed.
“Seems he doesn’t know,” Viviane said.
“Waste not, Ignis why didn’t your Divine come to the Marriott and assist in clean up?”
Ignis’s screams became maddened shrieks.
“You will answer,” Dunham said. “Save yourself the pain.”
“He’s sequestered, healing injuries and regaining essence.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t kn—” Ignis screamed and convulsed.
“How long?”
“I don’t know,” Ignis growled.
“Inconvenient.”
“We may be able to work it out,” Viviane said.
“I do know that after I get my hands on you, you’ll never play with fire again,” Ignis spat.
“Perhaps the Terra will be more cooperative,” Viviane said.
Dunham cast the second incantation over Ignis’s heart. He considered keeping its purpose a secret, but decided he’d rather see the fire phoenix’s expression. “That spell will cause you indescribable pain every time you feel the need to lie, threaten or otherwise disrespect me. You don’t even have to act on those thoughts, your heart—”
Ignis disappeared with a scream, writhing in agony at the bottom of his cage.
“Yes, I think we should finish sealing in the Terra and chat with him while Ignis enjoys his reeducation.”
Quayla
I stepped off the MARTA train at Peachtree Center station and bolted for the escalator. The clothes I’d grabbed from the rooms below Dunham’s quarters hadn’t fit right, but I’d transmogrified them into my true form then back with a few adjustments when I landed at the train station. In theory, I should’ve been able to clothe myself by just willing myself dressed when I transmogrified back to human. Building clothes from scratch required a lot of concentration and consumed essence.
Not really worth it.
A group of Cosplayers blocked my headlong rush up the escalator. I wanted to shove them out of the way, but doing so on the steep rising stairway risked injuring them.
“A movie? Really?” a costumed hero asked.
&nb
sp; The vampire nodded. “That’s what the Georgia Film Commission told the press.”
“That film company’s going to be paying out the ass for not properly posting signs, man,” a wizard in marijuana leaf covered robes said.
“But I bet that’ll be it,” the hero said.
“Disgusting how companies like that get away with murder,” the vampire added.
“Literally,” the hero added.
The top of the escalator allowed me to dodge around the convention attendees. I raced into a food court packed with rabid, wall-to-wall fandom. Any other time, I might have leaned against a wall and enjoyed the weirdness, but I had to reclaim any essence I could get—Ignis’s, Terrance’s or mine.
And Vitae’s too, I guess. Ass or not, he’s a shield.
A grin played across my lips.
It’s probably sinful to have enjoyed killing him, but he attacked me.
I reached the correct sky bridge and was forced to slow by heavy traffic and a group taking pictures of some elaborate costumes. I resisted an urge to scream.
Heart hammering my chest, I raced into the Marriott Marquis atrium to find it perfect. Every broken wall and shattered balcony looked as if it had never been damaged. People wandered around the hotel like nothing had ever happened.
I stopped a concierge. “Excuse me, someone said there was a disturbance of some kind here.”
The woman pushed a stray hair out of her face. “Sorry, you missed it. After those people died, the studio packed up.”
“People died?” I asked.
“Yeah, the studio hired a bunch of attendees as extras, but somewhere along the way a few people who weren’t part of filming the scene ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “That big plant monster was part of some movie shoot even though it destroyed half the hotel and killed a bunch of people?”
“Amazing what they can do with special effects these days,” the woman said. “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”
I shook my head, disbelief stealing my powers of speech. I supposed the story made sense if Vilicangelus or Summuseraphi had arrived in time to do a mass rewrite, but there’d been people recording the fight—some of them no doubt streaming live.
How could they have covered everything up so completely?
Anima would know. The only way to get to Anima was to return to headquarters. I had to be quick. Dunham might set an ambush for me at the Shield Sanctum if he learned of my escape.
No, I can’t risk it. How can I reach her? The angel on my Jahammer? No, it and all the rest of our vehicles are parked beneath the sanctum.
I discounted my amulet next, the box was in my room in the sanctum. Caelum’s box would be in his apartment, but his place seemed a likely ambush target too.
Ignis said his apartment had been lost. Creator! What do I do?
Costumed convention goers wove around me in a frenetic dance. Surrounded by tens of thousands, I was alone, truly alone without any place to go.
The Story Continues...
Thank you for reading Ruled by Tainted Blood.
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BPC 3: Vengeful are the Damned
Excerpt: Fires of Vengeance
Vitae
I swirled into existence, heart still thundering in my ears. Fury beat at the inside edges of my chest like a firestorm.
That ungrateful whore bitch killed me!
It didn’t matter that I’d intended to punish her for disobeying. She needed to be taught her place, but instead of taking her lesson like an adult she’d turned around and...cold washed through me.
Dread froze the breath in my chest.
Distantly, my brain sought refuge in cataloged my reborn form. Breast size, hair color, height—none of it mattered as long as I had the advantages a female body offered as vehicle to my goals.
Rage overtook me, vibrating my whole body.
Dolumii’s blade! Mare!
No matter how many times I argued with Vilicangelus over Aquaylae, he’d refused to recognize the threat she represented. He’d overlooked her disregard of duty. He’d discounted her laziness, her selfishness and her undisciplined attitude as youthful aspects.
And now, in disobeying my orders, she’s cost Mare’s freedom.
I stormed away from my nest through the security doors into my thrall’s basement laboratory. A half-elf attendant—hybrid bastard of an elf and a Halfling—pushed replacement robes and fighting batons into my hands. I pointed at six hulks standing along one wall with a baton and pulled the robes over my head.
“I can dress myself, summon the car.”
By time the robe’s folds settled around my sultry hips, the six enforcers bracketed me in a semi-circle. Their constant growth prevented dressing the wafers reanimated with troll marrow in clothes suitable for a gentleman’s entourage.
The thrall claimed their constant ‘hulking’ out of their clothes wasn’t likely to stop as long as we continued exposing them to x-rays, but the obvious advantage of naturally armored muscles and spiked limbs compensated for their lack of decorum.
I’d ordered them painted. Despite the thrall’s objections regarding clogging their pores, the troll DNA kept the head-to-toe black from killing them a second time.
And when I proved he was wrong he had the temerity to suggest we paint them green.
I stormed out of the basement for the front entrance, my temper heating further as I reviewed the travesty of the last few hours.
The young divine had summoned me—me—to a meeting to compare notes with the other shields.
As if I did not already know all I needed to know.
He’d shown his inexperience—nay incompetence—abandoning us with claims of overwork for some vacation frolic. When a major incursion had demanded our attention, my fellow elder shields had defended Aquaylae’s complete disregard for secrecy. They’d threatened me.
I did my duty anyway.
Choosing an inconspicuous route, I’d trekked through downtown to the DragonCon hotels, even paying for parking that should have been mine by right as the city’s defender. Irreverent crowds and would be photographers hampered my rescue mission, further endangering their fellow mortals. One mannerless cad had groped me rather than let me pass.
His hand won’t be the only thing that rots away.
The instinctual use of life’s antithesis on the naïve opened my eyes to a power I’d never considered. Employing my essence to draw life away from the barricading foliage allowed me to penetrate the hotel. Wielded against the kudzu beast, I’d been nigh invulnerable.
It was for that reason I instructed Aquaylae as to the ideal course of action while I thwarted some druid’s elemental.
A goblin in a chauffer’s hat met me outside the dilapidated
and condemned hotel that served as my new residence. The little faerie opened the back door of my 1937 Mercedes Landaulet limousine.
One of my enforcers wedged himself into the front passenger seat of the vintage car. The other troll-kin squeezed into an armored SUV gifted me by an agent of wafer government I’d enthralled.
Pushing a copy of Wuthering Heights aside, I slid onto the luxurious seat and reached for a decanter of aged brandy. “Take us downtown to the Marriott Marquis.”
“Lots of activity down there, Master. Many faeries.”
“Did I give you permission to speak?”
“Yes, Master, when you tired of my gestures.”
“Use it again to express an unsolicited opinion and I will revoke that permission.”
“Yes, Master.”
Good. Better than Aquaylae.
The water phoenix has ignored my orders outright. Instead of stepping aside to care for injured mortals, she’d insisted on hogging the glory of the kill. She’d even had the temerity to relegate me to a support role like some kind of battlefield midwife.
When I’d objected, she’d attacked and killed me.
That is the last time I’ll allow her to cost our shield lives.
“Drive!”
“Yes, Master.”
Bystanders gawked as my vehicle pulled out of the dilapidated hotel. Crews of enthralled faerie workers pressganged into renovating the interior of my new Shield Sanctum hadn’t begun work on the old hotel’s exterior. There was no need to hurry them until I decided whether or not the hotel’s exterior condition served better as camouflage of our new headquarters.
The larger building offered solutions to our Shield’s most significant problems. It removed us from our ‘lofty heights’ effectively eliminating any arguments about the other shields living outside the sanctum. It provided more room so younger shields who were worth sparing could train to a satisfactory level. It included space for servants to take over the insignificant details so we could focus on our duty.
Once Mare is returned and we’re rid of Aquaylae, this new headquarters will enable us to build the greatest Shield ever assembled.
Ruled by Tainted Blood Page 25
