by Sandra Hill
It all started when he’d sent Beltane to bring his ermine cloak after he’d gotten a sudden chill from drinking too many iced Bloody Marys (real Marys’ blood, of course). And the cloak was nowhere to be found. The fact that the cloak was priceless was incidental to the fact that someone must have stolen it. It was not the kind of thing one misplaced.
But then, Jasper discovered other things that were missing. Like his prized prisoner and former friend, Zebulan the Hebrew, along with three witch Lucipires who’d helped some female vangel gain his prisoner’s release. A vangel in his house and he hadn’t even known it! He knew now what had happened because it was all caught on security cameras, much to his embarrassment.
The nerve! The audacity! The daring!
He seethed at the thought of the vangel witch who’d masterminded this plot. He had a special torture planned for her. She would wish she’d gone to Hell when she first died all those centuries ago. And she would turn into a Lucipire, that he guaranteed. Mayhap even his love slave. Hah! Hate slave would be more like it!
Then there was Zebulan. His former friend thought he’d been tortured before, but it was nothing compared to what was to come.
As for the three witch Lucipires . . . Beauregard, Patience, and Grimelda . . . who’d aided Zeb in his escape . . . there was no doubt Jasper would catch them. They were mere hordlings, no match for a high haakai like himself. They would regret ever leaving the comforts of Horror. Jasper planned to skin them alive and turn their flesh into purses. He’d sell them on eBay for a fortune. The first ever demon bags. They’d be hotter than Coach or Michael Kors or vintage Chanel.
He’d already killed Craven for failing to secure the prisoner. His body had then been cut into bite-size pieces and fed to rabid wolves out on the tundra. He probably should have kept him alive for endless torture but he’d been in such a rage at the time, he had to vent his fury some way.
“Are the commanders ready?” he asked Beltane, his young assistant.
Beltane nodded and led the way to the conference room where Jasper’s high council had been called to an emergency meeting. They passed through the Corridor of the Condemned, where normally Jasper would have paused to appreciate his special invention, life-size killing jars that lined either side. Based on the model of butterfly killing jars, these tall, glass cylinders held newly captured, naked sinners who would eventually turn into demon vampires. They were all alive, technically, with long pins through their hearts holding them in place, though only a few of them continued to scream and bang their bloody fists against their glass prisons. Others were already in a state of stasis. Usually, Jasper would have enjoyed watching his little pets being tortured into compliance, but not today. There was too much to do, and his mind was occupied elsewhere.
Beltane opened the double doors to the conference room.
The first person Jasper met was the Nazi, Heinrich Mann, whom he hated with a passion almost equal to what he now felt for Zebulan. Jasper put up a halting hand. “Do not speak, Heinrich. I am well aware of Satan’s opinion on the matter at hand. I do not need your secondhand reports.” Heinrich claimed to have a close relationship with the sin master, which he lorded over all of them. No more! Jasper vowed. He would stick a swastika up Heinrich’s ass if he pulled any crap today.
Jasper glanced around the U-shaped conference table. Beltane stood on his right, between Jasper and Heinrich. Also standing (none would dare sit until Jasper gave the signal) were the high haakai Yakov the Russian Cossack; the pirate Red Tess; Ganbold the Mongol; and Hector, a former Roman general whose specialty had been feeding Christians to the lions. There were no other Lucipires in the room today. No veggie crudités or hors d’oeuvres, before or after the meeting. No live entertainment from pierced nubile Lucipire trainees. It would be strictly business.
Jasper called the meeting to order by letting out a mighty roar. They were all in demonoid form today, and they roared in reply. Then he sat down and the others followed suit in special chairs which accommodated their huge beast bodies and long tails.
“This atrocity that has befallen Horror . . . which is in effect an affront to all Lucipiredom . . . was caused by a vangel infiltrating our castle,” Jasper announced right off.
A murmur of surprise and consternation passed through the room.
“What happened?” Hector wanted to know. “I thought extra guards had been set up to prevent any rescue attempts.”
“Yes, we were on the alert these many months for the VIK to launch an all-out attempt to rescue Zebulan,” Jasper said and couldn’t even say the traitor’s name with a tug of grief at his cold heart. Like a son Zebulan had been to Jasper, and then the betrayal. Ah, the pain! The pain! “What they sent instead was a female vangel who passed herself off as Satan’s sister.”
“Does Satan have a sister?” Tess asked.
“Of course not,” Jasper answered. “This vangel will pay. Zebulan will pay. Every vangel in the world will pay,” Jasper promised.
His words were met with cheers.
“This . . . is . . . war!” Jasper declared. “A war to end all vampire demon/angel wars! Our very own Armageddon!”
More cheers.
“This war will have three major goals: One, to recapture Zebulan, his vangel rescuer, and the three Lucipire witches who aided in the escape. Heinrich, you will lead that expedition. I know how efficient the Nazis were at finding the whereabouts of the Jews. This one Jew and his cohorts should be no problem.”
Heinrich nodded his acceptance of the assignment, for once being deferential to Jasper. It probably wouldn’t last any longer than he could get to a cell phone to call Lucifer and report all the doings here.
“Second,” Jasper went on, “our mission will be to discover the hideouts of all the vangels in the world, including the VIK, and destroy those dwellings, whether they be cave or castle. Can you handle that, Hector?”
“Yes, master,” Hector said. “I already have some ideas.”
“Good, good. Now, last but not least, we are going to wage a grand war against all vangels. ’Tis past time we destroy these gnats in God’s army. Every single one of them.”
There were cheers and remarks of encouragement at those words:
“We have been too soft on them in the past.”
“We are just as strong as they are, and we need not follow any moral compass.”
“I need to sharpen my blade and season it with demon bane.”
“Poisoned bullets in an AK-47 will work just as well.”
“Wish I still had my ship. I’d have so many vangels walking the plank the seas would be littered with their corpses.”
“Yes, but make sure you get them through the heart first. Don’t let them make it to Purgatory.”
“Is that a real place? I always thought it was a made-up place to appease the Christians.”
“Of course it’s real.”
Jasper clapped his hands to get their attention. Not an easy task when a person had claws. Finally, he shouted, “Attention! There is more.” He turned to his assistant who had a computer open before him. “Beltane, show us the map.”
Immediately, with the click of a few keys (of a special computer keyboard designed to accommodate claws), Beltane was able to project an image on the opposite wall of a world map. It was divided into six different shaded areas. Jasper explained that each of them, himself included, Beltane excluded (not being a fighter of any skill), would be in charge of those regions. The territories were vast, of course, and he was quick to reassure them, “We have more than a thousand Lucipires on hand, fully trained, at the moment. Haakai, mungs, hordlings, and imps. But, in addition, Satan is sending us two thousand more demon warriors. Divided equally, that will put about five hundred Lucipires under each of us. Immediately, after we end this meeting, we must decide who will be the general, lieutenants, etc. among those ranks. I have a young Lucipire who is proficient with computers. Gordon will aid in the logistics of these plans. Do not hesitate to make use of his ta
lents. Also, if we need more demons, Satan will send them to us.”
“Should we increase the size of the command council?” Hector asked.
“Not at the present time. Sometimes less is better.” Jasper had enough on his plate without screening candidates for the council.
“How long do we have?” the usually quiet Ganbold asked.
“One month.” Jasper expected protests at that short period, but no one spoke up. They all realized the importance of acting swiftly. “One more thing. If possible, I want Zebulan and the seven VIK brothers delivered to me alive.”
“As you wish, master,” his commanders said then.
He stretched his arms out over them, prayer-like, and said, “May evil prevail!”
Chapter 7
It would be an unholy war . . .
Vikar and his six brothers waited anxiously for the arrival of Michael. After the initial greetings and questions, they’d lapsed into silence. Probably praying. He knew he was.
The order to assemble had come at three a.m. with sharp words that awakened him from a restless sleep. There was no doubt in his mind that it had been Michael, and the archangel was angry.
It had been more than four days since Regina had disappeared, and, for his sins, Vikar had hoped to get her back on his own before anyone else needed to find out. His infernal pride!
He had to admit to not knowing where Regina was, precisely, or whether she’d managed to help Zeb or her pitiful self to escape, which was highly unlikely. Oh, Vikar had led a search party after her, as soon as he’d discovered her disappearance. He’d even gone so far as the frozen tundra where Jasper supposedly had a castle named Horror, one of many Lucipire headquarters with equally morbid names, such as Torment, Desolation, Anguish, Terror, and Gloom. He’d been unable to breach the shield that surrounded the Horror perimeter from miles around. He hadn’t even been able to get a view of the castle.
Where was Regina? Had she somehow managed to get inside when no vangel ever had? Was she still inside? If so, in what capacity? Had she already been turned into a Lucipire? It would serve her right. No, it would not! No one deserved that.
Where was Zeb? Was he inside Horror? In what condition?
What should Vikar do? What could he do?
Acting as a double agent, Zeb had been their pipeline into Lucipire doings until his activities were discovered a year ago. There had been an unholy silence since then. Hard to imagine the torture Zeb was undergoing, or rather, he could imagine, and the possibilities were horrifying. Vikar himself had been captured by Jasper at one time, and he’d been held only a few days before his rescue. He would never forget the vile torture. Never!
If Regina and Zeb weren’t concern enough, during the past twenty-four hours, there had been rumblings of murders and atrocities around the world, not all of them attributable to terrorism. A bomb had been dropped on St. Peter’s Square in Rome, just missing the Pope who hadn’t yet come outside for a morning blessing, but killing hundreds. Mass beheadings in Syria. A satanic cult in Colorado gaining publicity with its lurid, orgy-like activities that supposedly involved baby sacrifices. Cathedrals and synagogues being graffitied with what appeared to be blood. Rioting and looting in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Detroit.
The news media was going wild speculating on the cause of all these simultaneous activities. Of course, the press wanted to blame terrorists for everything. It was the easy answer.
But was there a connection? Who could be responsible?
Vikar had a suspicion. He knew terrorists, at least some of them, had another evil entity pulling their strings. It all came back to Satan.
Just then, there was a loud sound outside, like the flapping of wings. Lots of wings. Through the myriad leaded windows of the formal salon where Vikar and his brothers had assembled, Vikar could see a cloud of darkness pass overhead as the morning sun was shielded by all those feathery wingspans. Michael must have brought a legion of angels with him.
Their celestial mentor wasted no time as he entered through the wide, double front door, which had been left open, and turned into the large room. Only Vikar and his brothers were assembled. All the other vangels in residence and the humans attached to some of them stayed out of sight, but they would come forth if called.
Michael wore angelic garb today. A white, long-sleeved robe was adorned only with a twisted rope belt and a crucifix on a heavy gold chain. The massive wings were tucked in now at his back, but the glow of a subtle halo outlined his entire body.
Vikar and his brothers had been seated in a semicircle, but they all arose and bowed before Michael. He waved a hand for them to sit again. Vikar offered Michael a chair, one which he’d had specially built to accommodate angelic wings.
Michael chose to stand.
Not a good sign.
“What hast thou done?” he asked Vikar, without any preamble.
Me? What, exactly, is he referring to? Regina? Zeb? Or something else?
Not giving Vikar a chance to respond, he added, “Dost have any idea what thou hast unleashed, Viking?”
Uh, no.
“Did I not stand in this very room and order you vangels to stand back, not to attempt a rescue of Zebulan?”
“Yes, and I told Regina not to go, but she—”
“You knew about her plan? You knew? And you did not tell me?”
Vikar felt his face heat with color. “She came to me with some lackbrained idea for a woman, a female witch at that, having better luck gaining access to Jasper’s hiding place. I told her that you had expressly ordered us not to intervene.” Vikar still didn’t understand why, but then it was not his place to question God, or His right-hand archangel.
“And?” Michael was pacing angrily while they talked, leaving a trail of flurrying feathers in his wake. “I named you leader of the vangels. Leaders exert authority. What authority did thou exert over your underling?”
“Regina pointed out that you said, ‘You men, all of you, are forbidden from rescuing Zebulan.’ She noted that you did not specifically forbid females.” That sounded lame even to Vikar’s ears, and he noted several of his brothers cringing at his ill-thought-out defense.
Michael stopped his pacing and glared at Vikar. “The nerve! The audacity! When will you Vikings learn about obedience? My words to you are law. And they are not to be picked apart for nuances. They are what they are!” He was shouting by now, and mostly at Vikar.
Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, Vikar wanted to say, but didn’t dare. “I never dreamt Regina would pull such a fool act.”
“She is a Viking, isn’t she?” Michael said, the implication being that anyone of Norse descent was a fool.
To his surprise, Cnut spoke on Vikar’s behalf. “I should have gone to rescue Zeb. After all, the Lucie traded his life for mine. It galls to know that a female attempted what I did not.”
“No,” Trond said, “I should have gone. He was my friend.”
“I’m smarter than all of you combined. I would have had a better chance of finessing an escape,” Harek interjected. “I might have been able to break the code of the shielding at Horror, if that’s where Regina went.”
“What good is it being a berserker if I do not direct my anger toward a good cause? And what better cause than rescuing a would-be vangel?” Mordr bowed his head in shame.
“Well, if we’re playing the blame game, I was the most logical choice for a rescuer, being a physician,” Sigurd declared. “I could have ministered to Zeb’s injuries, which would be massive, on the spot to aid in an escape. I can’t imagine how a single female would have been able to carry Zeb’s body out, assuming he is unable to walk with all the torture he would have sustained by now.”
“Let’s face it. There would have had to be an ingenious plan to get inside Horror Castle or wherever Zeb is . . . was . . . being held. Everyone knows that women cannot resist my charms. I guarantee a female Lucie would have opened the doors to me.” Ivak, guilty of the sin of lust, who often self-proclaimed himsel
f the best-looking of them all, probably believed his own propaganda. “I should have gone.”
“Aaarrgh!” Michael tugged at his own long dark hair in frustration. “Would you listen to the lot of you? Idiots, all! If any of you had gone, it would have been in direct disobedience to my orders.”
Silence followed.
Then Michael announced, “Regina managed to enter Horror, find the dungeon cave where Zebulan had been tortured these many months, and escape with him. The cave was in the bowels of the tundra there, undetectable . . . until now.”
They all reacted at once.
“They escaped?”
“Wow!”
“That’s wonderful!”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Where are they?”
“Are they okay?”
“This calls for a celebration.”
“Regina deserves a promotion, Vikar.”
“Or maybe not. Sorry, Michael.”
“My wife is going to say, ‘I told you so. Women rock!!’”
“Yeah, I’ll never hear the end of it. Nicole is always saying the world would be better off if females ruled.”
“Jasper must be having a bird. Beaten by a woman, and a lowly vangel at that.”
“Don’t forget she’s a witch, too.”
“Right.”
“Wonder if she put a curse on Jasper’s manpart while there? She was always threatening to tie mine in a knot.”
“As if yours is long enough!”
“I’m plenty long enough.”
“Somebody better go tell Lizzie to prepare a feast to welcome Regina home. Didn’t she buy a big pig from that Amish farmer last week? Yeah, we could have roast boar to celebrate.”
Michael shook his head at them. “There will be no celebration. I have no idea where they are. And if I did, there are a few words I have for the woman, and none of them would be ‘Congratulations!’”
“I thought you knew everything,” Trond blurted out.
“No, Trond, I do not know everything. Only the Good Lord knows everything, and He does not confide all in me.”