by Luke Metcalf
“We were following hundreds of other leads, you fool.”
“Okay, okay, but I told you a hundred times, I didn’t mean to kill him. We were just roughing him up a bit, trying to get him to talk, and he died.”
The man stared at him. “Just roughing him up? You beat him to a pulp, then you shot him five times!”
“Yeah.” There was a pathetic whine to Cady’s voice now. “But I didn’t mean to hit any major organs. It was bad luck, that’s all.”
“Bad luck?”
“If you had left him to me,” Commander Claw growled, “I would have burned him with the alcohol claw.”
The pale-faced man turned to Mr. Denman. “Here’s your first payment,” he said placing the briefcase on the table and opening it. Mr. Denman flicked quickly through the contents, snapped it shut and picked it up.
“Very good.”
“And here is the itemized list.” He handed Mr. Denman a large, thick envelope. “Once everything is sold and turned into gold, burn the list.”
Mr. Denman dropped the envelope on the table in front of Sammy. “Go through this, when the shipments come in every piece and every ounce of gold must be accounted for.”
“Okay sure, no problem.” Sammy was sweating like a pig and blotting his terrified face with a pocket-handkerchief. He lit a cigarette with trembling fingers.
“Mr. Denman has arranged for two of his ships to crash,” the pale-faced man was explaining. “That will distract the coast guard while Commander Claw brings in the shipment with his submarines.” He suddenly stopped speaking, stiffened and seemed to sniff the air. He slowly turned and looked directly at the boxes, behind which Emily and Tom were hiding. They both held their breaths and then Emily heard another voice, which made her heart leap into her throat.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mephris.”
She would have recognized that haunting, velvety voice anywhere. Along with everyone in the office she looked up to a window high above the desk. There he was, perched casually on the windowsill, looking down with a mocking smile on his lips. Emily’s mouth grew wet. She opened her lips but stopped herself from speaking. Tom looked from Mitchell to her and saw the expression on her face. Across Mitchell’s lap lay a sword, still in its sheath.
“What little scheme are we working on this evening, gentlemen?” asked Mitchell.
“You.”
Emily turned and saw that it was the pale-faced man she had seen at Cady Sunner’s house and then at the Sanctuary who spoke.
A mixture of fear and anger flooded Mephris’s face as he fought visibly to control himself, a sneer forming on his lips.
“How nice to see you again, Mitchell. Nothing for over two hundred years and now twice in a week.”
His name is Mitchell! Emily thought it was the most wonderful name she had ever heard. What did Mephris’s mean by “nothing for two hundred years?”
Mitchell, paused, sniffing the air and looking around, for a split second his eyes rested on Emily and Tom, then turned back to Mephris as if he had seen nothing.
“When you ran away from me the other night, it made me feel a little sad for you,” he teased. “It reminded me of old times. You haven’t changed at all, Mephris. You’re still a coward. Still the bumbling, infantile buffoon you always were.”
Mephris clenched his fist. “Buffoon! You call me a buffoon? You are the fool!”
“And a slave to a silly cult.” Mitchell continued. “Tell me, how is Baelaar? You’re still his errand boy, I see.”
“Soon the Niveus Gladius will be nothing more than an embarrassing memory!”
Mitchell narrowed his eyes at Mephris and tried to read his mind, but the vampire mustered all his strength to push him out. Mephris was shaking with the effort and Mitchell laughed at him.
“You’re going to have to get used to disappointment. I am now more powerful than you, Mephris. And I intend to make you and your master scream before I destroy you.”
Mitchell was distracted for a second as another man burst through the door.
“Ruthen!”
Lord Ruthen glanced up in surprise. “Mitchell!”
As always Lord Ruthen was impeccably dressed and wore a fortune in antique jewelry. Before anyone else could speak a roaring sound like an approaching hurricane rose up outside the warehouse. Mitchell turned in the window to see at least a hundred motorcycles approaching. Realizing what the noise was, the Russian and Chinese gang members on the floor below ran to their vehicles, pulling out weapons as they went. If ever there was a time to use the Ring of Teleportation, Emily thought, this might very well be it, but she forced herself to wait. It had to be a last resort. She was still terrified of what would happen if she made a mistake.
“Come with me,” Mr. Denman shouted to Cady Sunner and Commander Claw and they ran down the steps, vanishing through the same side door they had entered through.
Mitchell dropped lightly down from his perch to the floor as Mephris reached into his coat and withdrew a bottle of liquid with a rag stuffed in the top. He snatched the cigarette from Sammy’s lips and held the burning tip against the rag before hurling it at Mitchell. Sammy shrieked in fear and stumbled backward as Ruthen unsheathed his sword. Emily was stunned by the agility with which both Mephris and Mitchell moved. No human was that fast. But of course she understood now, they were not from Earth.
As Mephris fled down the stairs, Mitchell vaulted over the flying bottle and landed in a crouch as it exploded against the wall behind him, setting the office ablaze. A machine gun sent a stream of bullets through the window above where Emily and Tom were still crouching. Mitchell heard Emily cry out in shock. Some of the bullets smacked into Sammy and with a long scream he spun round under the impact and fell to the floor dead as shattered glass rained down over Tom and Emily.
Emily cried out again, a sound Mitchell couldn’t ignore. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay.” She and Tom crawled out from behind the boxes.
“This guy again?” Tom shoved a thumb in Mitchell’s direction.
“I’ll get Mephris.” Ruthen shouted at Mitchell. “Meet me in Eastern Cemetery at midnight.”
Without waiting for a reply, Ruthen disappeared after Mephris. Below them, in the main warehouse, at least a hundred leather-clad, tattooed bikers had charged in wielding knives, chains, baseball bats, axe handles and guns. It was a barbarian army, an awe-inspiring collection of some of the biggest, toughest, wildest men on the planet in full battle frenzy.
The Russian and Chinese gang members were equally well-armed and had joined ranks to face the vicious onslaught. Within seconds, it was a battle scene of epic proportions, the roar of gunfire and the bloodcurdling battle cries echoing off the roof high above as the combatants came face-to-face. Bats and axe handles smashed skulls, arms, shoulders, and teeth. Those wielding knives ducked, dodged, sliced and stabbed in every direction. One huge biker, armed only with a set of brass knuckles on each fist, pummeled his way through the very center of the battle like a crazed gladiator, roaring his defiance of all those around him.
“We need to get you two out of here,” Mitchell said, sheathing his sword and slinging it over his back.
“Who is he?” asked Tom again.
Emily snatched up the envelope Mephris had put on Sammy’s desk.
“Come with me,” Mitchell ordered her.
“But—”
“Do as I say!” He lifted her in his arms and she immediately felt more safe and protected than she ever had before. Mercurios appeared on her shoulder.
“Your Sphere of Protection, Emily… use it,” he whispered urgently, then disappeared.
Emily pulled the sphere out of her pocket and whispered the command word. As it glowed blue she immediately had the sensation that a bubble of almost liquid-like translucent energy surrounded her. Nobody else seemed to notice it.
“Hold tight,” Mitchell whispered in her ear, sending a shiver of pleasure rippling deep inside her. T
o Tom, he said, “Follow us.”
As they flew down the stairs into the madness below, Emily caught a glimpse of some of the Chinese gang members who had broken away from the fight, jumping into an SUV. The engine revved and they raced toward the far exit, where other gang members were frantically trying to pull open a door that seemed to have been welded shut.
“Get that door open!” shouted a burly Russian man.
“It’s sealed!” shouted one of the men desperately trying to tear it open. “We’re trapped!”
Seeing their panic a huge biker picked up a rocket launcher, aimed, and fired it at the SUV. The rocket flew the length of the building and collided with the SUV with a deafening blast. The vehicle exploded. Burning bodies came crawling and shrieking out of the wreckage.
Mitchell carefully put Emily down and punched and kicked his way through the battle with superhuman focus, strength, speed and precision, making a path for Emily and Tom to follow.
“Yes!” shouted Mercurios, dancing with glee at the carnage Mitchell was wreaking. “Crush them unmerciful!”
Emily screamed as a blinding flash of light appeared directly in front of Tom, along with what looked like a large, black doorway that immediately vanished. Shielding his eyes, Tom ran at full speed into what looked to the half-blinded Emily like some kind of massive man who had stepped out of the black doorway. Like an oncoming freight train, the man knocked Tom to the floor. As he struggled to get back to his feet, the figure bent over and plunged something long and sharp into his chest. Tom screamed in agony.
“Tom!” cried Emily.
Mitchell spun around, and, without hesitation, strode toward Tom and his attacker. Now her vision was clearing Emily could see that it was a hideous being, at least twelve feet tall. Its skin was horribly withered, it had enormous black holes where its eyes should have been, its tusks protruded from its lower jaw, and atop its ugly head were a pair of horns. Without breaking his stride, Mitchell swept out his sword. His supernatural powers sent a surge of energy through the blade and it erupted into flames. With one mighty strike, he decapitated the creature where it stood and thick, black ooze spewed from the body as it fell to the floor in horrible, jerking spasms.
Seeing Tom was still alive, Mitchell sheathed his sword and reached down to help him to his feet, just as the monster’s body dissolved into a viscous, black puddle.
Tom looked at Mitchell in a daze.
“What are you?” he asked. With his strength and awareness returning, he shouted louder, “I said, what are you?”
Mitchell noticed that Tom’s shirt was ripped across his chest and a red light was glowing underneath it. Tom followed his gaze down and staggered backward with a look of horror on his face.
“Tom!” Emily screamed as he turned and ran off around the side of the warehouse into the crowd.
One of the Chinese gang members grabbed Emily by the throat and held the point of a jagged knife to her eye, using her as a human shield. Emily dropped the envelope and stealthily drew her wand. Before she could use it Mitchell leaped across and plunged his sword through the man’s torso.
Emily screamed as the thug’s eyes bulged, his face contorting in agony. He released his grip on Emily’s throat and she slid her wand back into her inside jacket pocket, picking up the envelope as Mitchell grabbed her and took off. As they sped toward the side door, Cady Sunner jumped on top of one of the parked vans, drew two pistols out of his jacket, and began firing randomly into the crowd, laughing like a maniac.
As Mitchell and Emily ran past him he fired after them, but the bullets bounced off Emily’s invisible Sphere of Protection. They flew through the parking lot and hurtled up the street, leaving the battle behind them. Emily heard police sirens approaching. She buried her face in Mitchell’s powerful chest and breathed deeply. The horror of the carnage she had witnessed only moments before abated with the rhythmical rise and fall of his powerful stride.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
She told him where her mother’s house was. He said nothing, just tore through the streets and parks with the speed and power of a galloping horse. It was like a dream, the way he ran at such speed, bounding over fences and navigating between buildings and around trees. When they arrived in her mother’s backyard he set her down on her feet.
“What were you doing there?” he demanded angrily, looming intimidatingly over her. “You could’ve gotten killed!”
“I went there to confront Sammy.”
“You’re a fool!” he bellowed and Emily shrank back. “Do you have any idea how dangerous those people are?”
“They murdered my father,” she said in a weak voice.
“So you know they are killers!”
“You wouldn’t understand!” she yelled back, tears brimming in her eyes, “That was Cady Sunner in there, and he was the one who did it. Please, Mitchell.”
Just speaking his name sent a shiver down Emily’s spine. Mitchell ignored her and she chewed angrily on her fingernails.
“Don’t do it again,” he ordered. “You’ll be killed. You think throwing your life away is going to help anyone or anything? And I told you not to bite your fingernails.”
She pulled her fingers out of her mouth and crossed her arms defiantly. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my father.”
“I have to leave.” He walked away. “Just obey me and don’t go near those people again. You are a naïve little girl meddling with people who could crush you in an instant.”
“What do you care anyway?”
He stopped and stared at her. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “For some reason I feel very protective of you.” He shook his head. “But I have to go.”
It started to rain and Emily felt her face getting wet. Mitchell simply turned away and leaped on top of the fence like a big cat.
“Oh!” Emily moaned in frustration and clenched her fists. He infuriated her. “No wait!” she cried, running toward him as he stood on the fence. Her heart began to race, her stomach was full of butterflies, and adrenaline coursed through her blood.
“Wait! Please, I’m sorry. I’m just… Thank you. I owe you my life. You must think I’m incredibly ungrateful. Please, will I ever see you again?” She was willing to say or do anything to keep him there. “I know your secret,” she blurted out, gambling that Mercurios was right.
Mitchell jumped back down off the fence. His face was calm but deadly serious and he stared at her long and hard. He stepped close to her, looming over her. “And what secret would that be?”
“Don’t worry, I’m also from Magella.”
“Excuse me?”
“Magella, aren’t you from Magella?”
“How do you know of Magella?” he asked, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders.
“Mitchell.” Emily shrank back, reaching for her wand. He noticed the fear he was causing and released her.
“So, you are from Magella?” she said.
“No, I was born in England.” He stared deep into her eyes and Emily felt her mind begin to float. Her body grew hot like it always did when looking into his hypnotic, glittering emerald eyes. “In the year 1546.”
Her mouth fell open and she could feel hot sweat forming on her flesh from the excitement of having her suspicions confirmed. “I knew it,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“The dark fairy tales are true, Emily; vampires do exist.”
“I knew it. I thought you were either a vampire or a necromancer from Magella, or maybe even a vampire necromancer. But you’re not from Magella?”
“What do you know about Magella?”
“Not much, only that I’m not from this world.”
Mitchell looked at her for a moment. “I knew there was something different about you…” he whispered. “But how…”
“I was a baby. I don’t remember anything. Apparently, my parents were wizards who sent me through some magical artifact called the Well of Many Worlds, and here I am.”
His eyes widened
. “Do you know where the Well is?”
“I have no idea.”
“I sensed something about you. Both our blood is from Magella. And that’s why the wolves led me to you.”
“What?”
“In the forest, that is why the wolves led me to you and why one leaped at you. Wolves almost never attack humans, what you see in the movies are lies. Wolf attacks on humans are incredibly rare. But I instructed them to hunt for a vampire, a being with blood like mine, blood from another world. Blood from Magella. Wolves are proficient at tracking vampires. I used them to track Mephris to that warehouse. Just as the old legends say, wolves are the guardians of the spirit world, acutely aware of beings that are crossing or caught between the worlds of the living and the worlds of the dead, like ghosts, ghouls and vampires. Since the original vampire came from Magella, all vampires have otherworldly blood and wolves are extremely aware of them. When they came across you they sensed that your blood was from the same world as mine and the way you appeared, your vampire costume… it was you they thought I was after.”
“Sorry, you instructed them? But wait, I thought you said you weren’t from Magella.”
“I’m not, but the first vampire was and we all carry his blood. I have to go.” Mitchell turned to leave.
“No! Wait!”
“Return to your life, Emily,” he said, his eyes now cold. “Leave this to me. I will get your revenge for you. And after that, pretend that I was just a dream.”
He turned and leaped over the fence, disappearing into the night.
“Mitchell wait!” she cried, but he was gone.
Nineteen
Mitchell arrived at the cemetery at exactly midnight. Lord Ruthen materialized out of the darkness a moment later.
“Mitchell.” He smiled and grasped the other vampire’s hand. “I never thought I’d see you again. Have you been in hiding all this time?”
“Why were you at the warehouse, Ruthen?” Mitchell responded coldly.
“Hunting Mephris, of course.”
“Really?”
“Yes, why else?”
“Do you remember the last time you saw Fionn?”