Fright blinked again, slowly, his eyes icing over with anger. “No,” he repeated emphatically. “We had a deal. A deal which died earlier tonight, when Ashes killed you.”
Juris grew even paler.
If I’d been him, I would have been terrified too.
After all, I’d already seen where he was going when he died.
“But…” Fright took a step toward me, holding out a hand; everyone but Hershel and myself took an immediate step or two away. “I would prefer if you did not hurt him.”
I furrowed my brow, staring up at the Fae.
“I already owe you much, even past the harm you have dealt me,” Fright said, gesturing to the scars on his face with his missing finger. “But I would ask for one more thing.” The toes of his heavy, archaic boots brushed Juris’ head as he stared down at the Moroi, who cowered under me and shook, closing his eyes. “I think my father would like to have… a word or two with him.”
Something about the promise hidden in Fright’s tone made even my blood run cold.
“In return,” Fright stared down, his eyes boring into the fallen vampire, “anything of value he knows, we will find, and you will know.”
“Well, I’m convinced!” I stood up and stepped off of Juris’ chest. “Have at him.”
Smiling an eerie, frigid smile, Fright tightened his grip on Juris’ shredded coat and dragged him away as the shadows swarmed, tightening around them like a noose, swallowing the broken vampire whole.
“Have fun, you crazy kids,” I waved.
The Fae paused for a moment, looking back at me. “I will return,” he promised, though his eyes left mine and lingered on Kitty instead as the darkness finally consumed him and his presence disappeared.
“Would not want to be that guy,” Hershel finally said.
I smirked, helping Tamara and the other girl to their feet, waiting for everyone else to shake off the lingering fear of Fright’s appearance. Together, we made plans to leave before any mortal authorities arrived; with Fright and Meladoquiel’s auras of unnatural terror gone, it wouldn’t take long at all.
But before we could leave, two tiny forms burst from the toppled pines, racing around us in frantic circles and staring at the destruction all around us.
“Holy sh— I mean, what did you guys do?” Rain-yote leapt about, casting an accusing glare at Charles and me in particular. “The poor Vulcan! The museum! And how did you manage to wreck the entire park?”
“Yeah, chica,” Jason-yote winked up at me from near my ankles. “You never invite us to the good parties.”
Rain stared at him.
I might have laughed first; but maybe everyone else joined in, one after another.
Maybe even Charles.
And maybe it was a little bit strained, or even a touch hysterical.
But maybe, after the whole world had gone mad for a few weeks, it was simply good to still be alive.
Or in my case, as close as I could get.
26
Epilogue - Back to good
After a night of intense storms and atmospheric fireworks, terror and dread descended on the city as terrorists struck the very heart of Birmingham, vandalizing the statue of Vulcan.
Witnesses reported loud, terrifying sounds and strange lights in the sky immediately preceding the explosion that tore the beloved statue free of its base and sent it tumbling down the mountain, causing several millions of dollars worth of damage.
Fortunately, though many injuries and immense amounts of property damage have been reported, these has been no known loss of life. So in light of the last few days’ traumatic events, what we at the Eagle Mountain Chronicle Times Review want to know is:
When will this pervasive feeling of gloom and dread finally end?
And when will those truly responsible pay for their crimes and finally be brought to…
Shaking my head, I set the newspaper back on the table. Across from me, Charles caught my eye and mirrored my expression.
“Mortals,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. “There’s a reason I don’t read that thing, you know.”
“Is there anyone that does read it?” Tamara raised an eyebrow at the print scattered across our table as she snacked on a scone. “I mean, there has to be, or it would just go out of business, right?”
“You’d think that,” I replied, stuffing a scone of my own underneath my Public Safety Mask.
“But you’re not considering how it’s just one moving part of the whole plutocratic propaganda machine,” Charles finished, never looking up from his giant book.
I raised my fist in solidarity with him; he pretended to ignore me.
“Riiiight.” Tamara’s phone alarm beeped insistently before turning into the first beats of some dance song indistinguishable from car alarms mixed with factory noise. Quickly, she devoured the last of the scone and rose, brushing away subtle nervousness and scone crumbs alike. “Okay. Got to go.” I smiled up at her, and she leaned down and kissed me. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”
“With this guy?” I jerked my thumb across the table at the reading wizard. “Just try to stop me.”
With an amused snort and a wave, Tamara pushed her way past Bookbinders’ heavy door.
Charles and I sat in silence.
“So are you going to follow her, or not?” he asked, carefully turning a massive page.
“Of course,” I replied. “I’m not about to let her do this alone. But if I leave too soon, she’ll notice me.”
He grunted. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“And try not to die.”
I chuckled, but it was short lived, and soon enough, we sat in silence again.
“She said you could have been in charge of the Magisterium, you know.”
Charles’ fingers fumbled the page he was turning, but he didn’t look up. “One more reason to live out here in the middle of magical nowhere.”
I leaned across the table, flicking the corners and spine of his thick tome over and over until he finally sighed and looked at me.
“Are you ever going to tell me the whole story between you and…her?” I asked. “I think I’ve figured some of it out, but how did it start? Why is she so obsessed with you?”
Charles was silent a long time. He didn’t meet my eyes, and he didn’t go back to his book. Free of Meladoquiel’s possession, he was as stoic and hard to read as ever.
But the more I watched, the more something in his dark cinnamon eyes looked almost…vulnerable.
“Ashley,” he breathed a heavy sigh and rested his tome on the table. “I’ve come to almost trust you, as stupid as that most certainly is. One day in the distant future, if you don’t eat me first, we may even be…friends.”
I grinned.
“But I’m never telling you that story.”
I considered the wizard who still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Why?” I asked quietly, not expecting a reply.
After a moment’s pause, I got one anyway. “Because if there was anything that would make you hate me… it would be that story.” Charles picked up the book again, but he didn’t turn any pages and his eyes didn’t focus on any words. “God knows it worked that way for me.”
I frowned, but nodded, respecting his privacy and his decision.
With another glance at my phone, I rose and powered it off. “You be okay here alone for a while?” I asked him, tucking the device away.
He didn’t respond, so I stood there, impatiently tapping my foot.
Charles sighed wearily, breaking from his book to massage his forehead. “Yes, Ashley, I will be fine.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “This is not the first time I’ve been possessed, as I’m sure you are aware. I will manage, with or without your ‘company’.”
“Gotcha.” I smiled. “I’ll be back later then, okay?”
o o o
Using Aine’s super-secret entrance, I managed to slip past the powerful wards at the Queen’s Regent Hotel without killing m
yself, then past three or four Moroi until I reached the ventilation system.
From there, I crawled my way along to the side room where Tamara was meeting her sister, privately amused at a hotel full of fancy vampires suddenly wondering what that weird smell was.
By the time I arrived, they were already shouting.
“I can’t believe you’d just walk in here and expect everything to be forgiven, little sister,” a rich, condescending voice purred. “Not after everything you’ve done. After everyone you killed. There are rules and limits.” The voice paused for effect; I knew it could only belong to Liandra herself. “I’m just saying, I raised you myself. I know you’re not that stupid.”
“You’ve got to listen to me, Lia,” Tamara pleaded. Through the slits in the vent, I could see her slap her palms on an expensive redwood desk for emphasis. “That’s what I’m telling you; I didn’t do it.”
A tall, slender, shapely figure in white paced past Tamara, shaking her head. “Are you really trying to tell me that you didn’t kill those people? I can feel you lying, you know.”
“I don’t…I mean…” I’d never seen Tamara thrown so far off her game, but the powerful aura dripping from the other Moroi explained it easily enough. That, and Tamara’s own self doubts and fears. “It’s more complicated than that. There were circumstances, you don’t understand…”
Go on, Tam, tell her about the demon. I knew she didn’t want to admit to her sister that she’d lost control, but surely Liandra knew what the hell an Ur-demon was.
That is, if she even cared.
“You know, Tam, I’ve been very lenient with you until now.” Liandra paced, circling Tamara like a predator, her soft white dress trailing behind her, drawing arcs and curves on the rich crimson carpet. “Since I took you in, I’ve struggled to help you find a place, to fit in. To find your niche, as it were.” She shook her head sadly. “To educate you, to care for you as Mother directed. But in return? You rebel and constantly fight with me. You refuse your role in our family. And now this.” She stopped, staring at Tamara. “If not now, when will it stop?”
I could see Tamara’s fists clench in anger, then relax. “Something…happened to me. It was me who did those things, but I didn’t do them.” She surged forward as Liandra sighed and shook her head. “I have witnesses, people that will vouch for me—”
This time Liandra slapped the table with an abrupt bang. Tamara jumped, her momentum broken.
“And who exactly are these people, Tamara? Any Moroi? Anyone of note?” Liandra stared at her, leaning on the desk. “Or do you mean Charles Monroe, the Magisterium pariah? Your little fairy friend? That Strigoi creature you stay with?”
Hidden in the vent, my eyes widened. I could see Tamara recoil down below as well.
“Yes, I know a lot more than you probably think, Tamara.” Liandra propped a perfect hip on the desk and eyed her sister. “I was going to be content to let you eke out a living there, under my watchful eye. But now that I know you’re not going to be satisfied, we’re going to have to take…steps.”
Annnnnd I’ve heard enough. I smashed my elbows noisily into the grate in front of my face, ejecting it forcefully into the room, and squirmed forward.
Liandra stepped back as I fell out of the vent and landed on my feet.
Both Moroi stared at me in shock, wearing nearly identical expressions on very different faces.
“She knows about the demon, Tam,” I rasped, stepping over to her side of the room. “She always knew. She just didn’t tell anyone about it.”
Tamara’s dim sapphire eyes sparked, churning as the shock wore off. “What?” The static of her emotions crackled between us. She glanced at me, then turned her now-blazing eyes toward her elder sister. “You didn’t. You wouldn’t.”
“More than that, she forbade anyone else in the city from reporting it,” I finished, glaring at the tall, raven-haired Moroi myself.
Tamara shook her head, her body trembling.
“And again, there’s nothing to back up this crackpot conjecture.” Liandra matched our gazes easily, her own eyes two disks of blazing liquid gold, as bright as the sun. “No one seems to know about this ‘demon’ of yours…” she stepped around the desk, her stride purposeful. Tamara took a half step back and reached for my hand.
Liandra smiled, a whisper-thin expression devoid of amusement. “…except for the two of you, that is.”
“Well, us and Matthew,” I replied.
Liandra froze.
“And whoever Matthew’s told, I guess?” I shrugged. “I don’t really know how all the fancy Moroi stuff works. I’m just the delivery girl.”
Tamara stared at me and smiled, relief breaking across her face like the dawn breaking through clouds.
“You…don’t know Matthew,” Liandra stated, her voice uncertain.
She could probably tell I was speaking the truth after all.
“Nope!” I grinned. “But a friend of mine does.”
Liandra’s face turned to stone, and she opened her mouth, but I never got to hear her reply.
“Why so stunned, Lia? Realized you actually screwed up for once?” Tamara’s smile lit up her eyes, relief and delight rolling off of her in a wave. But her amusement evaporated an instant later, the glistening blue turning dark and dangerous. “I can’t believe you would do this to me, after all we’ve been through. We may not get along, but you’re my sister, for fuck’s sake.” She advanced on Liandra, ending up nearly chest-to-chest with the taller Moroi. “We’re both daughters of Lilith. Her family. Does that not mean anything to you anymore?”
Tamara stared her down; Liandra’s expression remained stony, frosty.
“But if this is how it’s going to be,” Tamara finished quietly, “I’m going to tell Mother everything, and she’s going to destroy you.”
The faintest of smiles flickered across Liandra’s face. For a moment, I thought she might strike Tamara, but she glanced from her sister to me and held back. “Good. Then at least I won’t have to stay in this hellhole of a city anymore,” she responded, her words clipped. “Or with you.”
The words rocked Tamara back on her heels, and Liandra pushed past her. I caught my lover’s arm before she could fall, lending her my support.
Liandra paused at the door. “You know, Tamara, nothing you can do will make me go away. And Mother…she’s getting old. Tired and bored. She won’t be around to protect you and those like you forever.”
I stepped between them, breaking their eye contact. “She won’t have to,” I growled. “Now, go on, shoo.” The tall Moroi stared at me, her lambent eyes flashing, and opened the door. “Break a leg!” I called after her as her elegant dress swirled out into the hall.
The door clicked closed. Tamara turned to me; I put an arm around her shoulders. “You okay?”
Slowly, the wet in her eyes faded, and she cracked a smile. “Get wrecked, Lia,” she whispered.
I started laughing as she leapt into my arms, knocking us both to the carpet.
o o o
I loitered in the alley next to the strip club, watching the yellow neon of the Pancake Hut sign flicker in and out of existence.
Did it lose another letter? I wondered. Right now it advertised “_an_ake Hu_,” and I couldn’t remember if it had been that way for a while, or if I was just now noticing it.
Either way, it didn’t sound very appealing.
The shadows surged around me, passing me by in bulk. I tensed as a presence suddenly emerged behind me, but relaxed almost immediately as I recognized its distinctive aura.
Well, mostly relaxed.
A grimy, silver-topped trash can creaked as Fright perched on it, both of us watching the occasional passerby wander in front of the alley and hurry quickly onward, shivering.
“Hey,” I said.
“…Hey,” he replied, now watching me instead.
“I’m sorry about Lan.” I’d been thinking ahead to this meeting for a couple of weeks now, considering how to handle
it when the young terror finally showed back up.
And as with all things Fae, I’d decided that honesty really was the best policy.
“Well, mostly sorry,” I amended, thinking about what he’d tried to do to Tamara. I shook the memory away. “I know you two were friends. Close.”
Fright nodded, appreciative, and then shrugged. “You will be pleased to know that I have no need to avenge his death upon you.”
I blinked.
The Fae sighed. “That…does not mean the same to your people as it does to mine, does it?” He shook his head as if lost. I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts and continue.
“I knew that Lan would not survive this campaign, this project.” The short creature eventually continued, scraping one wicked claw curiously across the alley wall. “Not because of seeing his future, but because of seeing his passion.” The Fae stared off. “I think that, perhaps, he wanted it to end this way. To try to change the world, and to give his life for something he believed in.”
My thoughts went immediately to my father, and I looked away as well.
“He defended me, you know,” Fright commented. I let him talk. “When I came back from my first dinner with Kitty and admitted that I had been tricked, Juris said maybe I should lose another finger. That maybe such a loss would speed up the learning process.” Fright stared at his hand. “Lan told him that if he did that, the next time he went to sleep, he would never reawaken.”
I didn’t have to like the man to smile at the memory. “He sounds like he was a good friend. I am sorry, for what it's worth.”
“I know,” Fright replied simply.
We watched traffic. Fright’s gleaming eyes scanned every person that passed, studying them.
“Is it that different?” I asked.
He glanced at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” he countered.
I stared at the alien-looking Fae for a moment, watching him blink those huge corpse-light eyes, tilting his head at passing cars like a curious, predatory raptor. “I guess it is,” I answered myself. “Is it hard getting used to a whole new world? You seem to be making progress.”
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