by S T Branton
Given her penchant for what you have so often termed, ‘total bullshit,’ I would not be surprised in the least, he answered honestly.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear,” I said. My head constantly swiveled, trying to keep tabs on where she was. She moved so quickly that I could barely depend on hearing rather than sight. It was like she was everywhere all at once.
Now I understood why this might take a while.
Breathe, Victoria. She is a different breed of god, to be sure, but she is not invincible. There is no such thing as a flawless deity, for even Kronin could die.
I spotted the vaguest hint of a cat shape leap from shadow to shadow. A pair of golden eyes appeared and streaked away. “She’s making me dizzy,” I said to Marcus. “Will she stop if I throw up on her?”
Trust your sword, as you have learned to do, he said. Your human senses may yet fail, but the Gladius Solis will not. It is, after all, the armament of a king.
I examined the blade beneath the flames. It made me a little nervous to take my eyes off Bastas’s potential attack, but it did help clear my mind. The longer I studied the sword in my hand, the more confident I became. It had brought me through all kinds of fresh new hells without missing a beat. I had seen it topple gods before, and I knew it could do so again. We could do it together.
The goddess disoriented me, but she was merely an obstacle, not invincible. I felt as if the sword spoke to me through my hands, sending its energy up into my body. The skin on my forearms picked up its glow, and a matching warmth spread through me. This, I realized, was what it felt like to truly be one with the weapon.
“Bastas,” I whispered. “Where are you?” I could almost see her now, even though my gaze was fixed downward at an angle toward the burnt grass. Her quiet, ever-moving presence stood defined in my mind’s eye. She was finally, finally getting ready to strike. She thought I was distracted.
But she was wrong.
She launched at me from above and behind, and in the two seconds that she was in the air, I whirled and blocked her claws with the flat of the blade. Instead of that exquisite humanoid face, I found myself looking into the eyes of a great black leopard, its paws braced upon the sword.
We stared at each other. A curl of dark black smoke rose from the blade’s surface, and Bastas jerked her paws away. A harsh, dark smear marred the underside of one great padded foot, which she now favored. She shrank back to the edge of our self-determined arena, but not far back enough that I couldn’t see her. The sneak attack she’d thought was foolproof had failed. She seemed strangely unsure about her movements now.
“Not used to fighting on your own?” I asked. “I get it. You have people to do that for you.”
Her hackles rose. She screamed again and launched her massive body at my head. A foot away from impact, she shifted into a humanoid and swiped at my chest with her naked claws.
“I will rip out your unworthy heart,” she growled.
I jerked my arm back and threw the sword overhand. It struck her in the left side of the ribcage, knocking her off balance. She tried to snatch it from the air, but my recall proved too strong.
“Jeez, lady,” I said. “At least buy me dinner first.” I flashed the sword at her. “Nice try, though. I think you almost had me.”
Bastas’s eyes were wide, fixed on me and wild with rage. Her pupils had shrunk down to nothing in spite of the darkness, and the wide expanse of yellow around the slits glowed like lamplight in the night.
“How can a human dare to mock me so?” she demanded. “From whence does this fool’s courage stem? There is no ending for you, save for a painful death. Do you not understand?”
“It might be painful if you killed me, yeah,” I acknowledged cheerfully. “But you won’t do that, will you?”
She lunged from the ground, seeking to rip my stomach open. “You will writhe in a sea of your own offal.”
I stepped aside, slicing neatly at her as she tumbled past. “No thanks. I’m keeping organs on the inside where they belong.”
The goddess whipped around and threw her body through the air. She morphed into the black leopard, and as the sinewy limbs stretched toward me, I leveled the edge of the Gladius Solis and thrust it directly into the center of her left paw pad. She couldn’t stop in time, and the steel traveled up and out the side of her leg, scraping the bone. Dark, pungent blood showered me.
Bastas hit the ground hard and wrenched her injured leg. A shattering, soul-rending cry shook her whole body, but she still managed to leap to three of her feet and bolt raggedly off toward the forest before I had taken more than two steps toward her. Heavy drops of blood trailed in her wake. I watched her shape, robbed of its grace, race off until she faded from sight.
Seconds later, Dan, Deacon, and Brax appeared, looking for the source of the horrible screech. “What in the blazes was that?” Dan asked. “Did you find a damn banshee somewhere?”
The demon shook his head. “Bastas is dead.”
“No, she’s not. I couldn’t seal the deal.” I extinguished the sword’s blade. “But one of her legs is pretty fucked up, and I’d say it’s a job well done for now. If she comes back, I’ll kill her for sure. If she doesn’t, I’ll hunt her down. Either way, she’s no longer a present threat.”
He looked me over. “That her blood, at least?”
“Hell, yeah,” I said.
Brax nodded his approval. “Nice.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
True to Forgotten form, Bastas’s minions didn’t last long after she abandoned them. My team and I mopped up the fight before we retreated into the fort, leaving some of our soldiers on watch. I lingered at the front for a while, keeping a personal eye out for any sign of Bastas’ return. She never appeared. I figured that her leg injury had at least bought us a chunk of time, though when she eventually did return, it would probably be with a vengeance.
By then, we’d be ready for her.
The first thing I did once I went inside was take a nice, hot shower. The mud, sweat, and cat-god blood ran down the drain, and I soaked in the steam and soap. The things a hot shower could do for the soul were truly amazing. I emerged from the stall rejuvenated, ready to face the new challenges awaiting us.
No doubt, there were worse things than a horde of feral cats on the horizon, but we had proven tonight that we had each other’s backs—all of us. I smiled, thinking about the way Dan and Brax’s plan had gone off without a hitch. Sure, it turned the whole field into an awful burning mess, but it took care of the horde. An encouraging step forward.
I took my time getting dressed, brushed my hair, and went to the table by the bed to slip Marcus’ pendant back on.
Hail, Victoria. You are looking as well as I’ve ever seen you.
I chuckled. “That is almost certainly not true, but thanks for making the effort. What do you say we get down to the mess hall and check on the status of the feast? My stomach is feeling pretty empty.” Right on cue, a gurgle emanated from my inner workings.
Certainly. Hunger pangs do not suit a hero.
I sighed, smiling in spite of myself. “I’m not a hero, Marcus. I’m simply doing the job you gave me. Without pay, I might add. All I have for compensation are warrants for my arrest, people trying to kill me, and tons of blood on my hands. I’m not sure I would have taken this gig if I knew the perks were so nonexistent.”
That is almost certainly not true, Marcus echoed, but thank you for making the effort. I had thought you were too pleasant as of late.
“Oh, please.” I waved my hand dismissively. “You’ve come to love this sparkling personality.”
As sparkling as grains of salt in an open wound, he said.
I frowned. “You’re getting sassier. Maybe you’d like to hang out with someone else for a while. You could roll with Deacon instead. Or Brax. How about that?”
If you forced Abraxzael to wear this medallion, I assure you, I would find a way to transcend the boundaries of death and
die again.
“I’ll never understand you two. He’s not that bad.” I entered the open-front atrium and turned right toward the mess hall. A couple of Dan’s men were hard at work replacing the broken doors. They grinned at me on my way past.
“Hey, Vic,” the older one said. “You’re looking mighty fine tonight.”
“C’mon, dude.” His younger colleague looked mortified. “You can’t say that to her. She totally outranks us.”
I smirked. “What he means to say is that I’m way out of your league. See you at the feast, boys.” I passed into the hall without giving them a second thought.
“Oh, shit,” the younger one said. “I should have high-fived her for that.”
The tantalizing aroma of food drifted from the open kitchen as I made my way to the back. I could see Veronica’s crimson hair tied up in a giant bun on her head and encased in a makeshift hairnet. She looked up when she heard me enter. “Hey, Vic. How are you feeling?”
I scowled. “Fine. Why? Do I look like crap?”
Big Red rolled her eyes. “No, you look fine. I asked how you are because of that fight you were in, remember?” She palmed a dinner roll from a nearby baking sheet and tossed it at me. “Here. Shove this in your face. You’ve gotten skinny.”
“Okay, Mom.” It was still warm and soft and buttery on the inside. “What the hell? This is so good. Did you make it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Veronica held up a tube of premade dough. “Me and this cardboard tube.”
“Is that Vic I hear out there?” Jules stuck her head out from one of the pantries. Her smile lit up her whole face. “Hey! You look awesome. It’s good to see you not covered in dirt or blood for once.”
“You make it sound like those are things I want to happen.” I took another bite of the roll. “Those are simply things that happen to me.”
“We’re grateful for it, make no mistake.” Veronica opened one of the ovens and peeked at what was inside. “But that doesn’t make it less gross.”
“Fair,” I said. “When do we eat? I’m starving.”
It was Jules’ turn to roll her eyes. “Get out of here with that. Good food is like art. It takes time.” She looked me over. “Why don’t you go find Deacon so that clean, pretty face doesn’t go to waste?”
Veronica laughed before she could hide it. Her enormous bun wobbled.
“You guys are jerks,” I said. “Don’t blame me if you come to tell me the food’s ready and all you find are some skeletonized remains.”
Big Red groaned and tossed me another roll, and I made off with my prize before either of them could change their minds. I’d given them a hard time for fun, but actually, I didn’t mind that the feast wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to take another spin around the fort and assess the situation.
The common areas were full again. Families sat talking on the furniture, and mothers cradled babies in the crooks of their arms. Older children zipped around the adults, shrieking and laughing with pure glee. I found Maya putting puzzles together with a whole gaggle of kids, while Steph conspicuously read a book nearby. Frank and a kitten took up the opposite corner. None of the parents shot him suspicious looks any more or whispered to each other when he went by. He let the kids use his bulky physique as a jungle gym, rifle through his pockets, and even wear his hat. He studiously avoided both Maya and Steph at the moment, but I guessed that couldn’t be helped.
“You seen Deacon?” I asked him.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I been busy, you know? Keeping the cat is a full-time job.” He scratched her between the ears.
“Right, don’t forget the feast,” I said as I walked away.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” he replied. “I’m dead, not…dead. Wait a sec—”
Dan and his men were outside under the glare of the spotlights, working to clean up the aftermath of the battle. Thick, tufted tumbleweeds dotted the scarred ground, dissipating gradually in the knife-like wind. I spotted Luis in the mix, his rifle on his shoulder, chatting with Dan as the two of them gathered heaps of charred grass. The soldier’s cheerful smile was once again a permanent fixture on his face, and his boisterous laughter rang out as I watched him interact with the kid. They were both laughing by the time I turned away.
I felt good inside. Deacon was nowhere to be found until I headed back to my quarters. He stood in the hallway outside my door, apparently waiting for me to answer. “You looking for something?” I asked.
“Yeah, and I just found it,” he said. “I thought we could find a way to kill some time before we eat. Did you know there’s a game room in here?” He pointed down the corridor. “It’s over near the regular barracks. They have an old arcade machine.”
“No way.” I inspected his face, trying to gauge whether he was screwing with me or not. It was true I hadn’t had the chance to fully explore the fort yet due to extenuating circumstances.
“For real. Bet you ten bucks I can beat the high score.”
“I’ll take that bet,” I said.
That was how we whiled away the hour before the feast was ready. Deacon labored mightily to win the bet, but he couldn’t succeed. To be fair, neither could I. But I still relished that time we spent together, for once not worrying about where the gods were, what they did, or how we would orchestrate our next move. It was only the two of us fighting over the stool in front of the machine, ribbing each other mercilessly, and sitting real close without stinking to high heaven.
I’d missed that kind of human contact.
I was in a great mood when we found seats in the mess hall. He brought us a couple of drinks, and I sat and watched the scene. More and more of the faces at these tables had become incredibly familiar to me. We were a huge, rambling family—definitely not where I thought I’d end up at the start, but I really couldn’t complain.
I sipped my drink, my eyes closed, when someone screamed. Immediately, I sat bolt upright as my eyes jerked wide open. Another murder was the first thing on my mind, another mangled body discovered inside the fort. That would dismantle this hard-won peace. I braced myself for the worst.
The crowd rippled and eventually ejected Frank almost in front of me. He was clearly on the way down from vamp mode, and he had a big bundle slung over his shoulder. On closer inspection, I realized the bundle was a person and a dead one at that. He dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor.
“Frank!” I jumped forward. “What the hell is this?”
He glanced up at me and rolled the body over. “Look. Remind you of anyone?”
I turned my gaze downward and felt my blood chill in my veins. The corpse belonged to the beefy guy who’d set the mob on Frank after the second murder in the woods—except he had changed. His face was sharp and lean, and fangs protruded from the slackened jaw. A forked tongue lolled out of the bully’s mouth.
“It was him,” Frank said vehemently. “The whole time, it was him. I caught him on his way to go skulkin’ through the woods. He was probably after one of Dan’s crew.” He scowled. “He wouldn’t come quietly, so I dealt with him. I know you said I’m not supposed to, and normally I’d agree, but…” The look he gave me was faintly beseeching, begging me to understand.
“Nah, you did good, Frank.” I clapped him on the shoulder and looked at the rest of the survivors watching us wide-eyed. “You hear that, guys? Frank got rid of the son of a bitch who killed our people in the Delaware Water Gap.”
The crowd cheered. The mobster smiled sheepishly. “It was nothin.’”
“Aw, Frank. You’re a hero.” Maya, still surrounded by kids, beamed at him, and a blush actually crept into his vampy cheeks.
“Now I’ve seen everything,” Deacon muttered.
As have I.
“Let him have this,” I said. “Look, I know it’s pretty weird that he’s a vampire, but he can obviously control himself, and he’s been on our side since he changed. There’s no way we can say all Forgotten are bad now. You know that, right? Some of them, at least, have demonstrated a capaci
ty to do good.”
This much, I must concede, said Marcus.
“I’m not ragging on the guy,” Deacon answered. “It would’ve been just as weird if he was alive.”
I gave Deacon a look and stepped up beside the rotund man in front of the survivors. “Can I say something real quick before the feast begins in earnest? I want everyone here to know how badass they are. Each and every one of you has done incredible things to get where we are today, especially over the last twenty-four hours. I have seen more strength, more courage, and more undiluted human spirit here in this fort than I have ever seen in my life. I mean it. And I will never forget it. We are in this together now, for as long as this struggle lasts. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me, or you don’t agree with me, or whatever. I’ve got your back until the world is ours again.”
The crowd whooped. Someone had taken some of my sad streamers off and tossed them around.
“What’s next?” asked a wiry youth with scuffed-up glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Where do we go from here?”
I thought about that for a minute. “We go up,” I said. “We gained a foothold. We won a battle. I think we’ve been on defense long enough, don’t you? It’s time to start winning the war.”
The cheers were raucous, bouncing off the walls. “Fort Victory! Fort Victory!” Then the chant devolved into, “Vic for Victory! Vic for Victory!”
I couldn’t help the laughter. “That’s not how it works.”
They didn’t care. And it didn’t matter, so I let it slide.
Vic for Victory.
Epilogue
The pain in her leg was excruciating, worse than any Bastas had ever felt in her long, long life. Although she was hurting, her injuries took a backseat to the blind, seething rage that boiled through her veins. The fact that it was a human who had done this to her, accursed god-weapon or not, was enough to drive her to the limits of her sanity. How could that vermin have inflicted such a wound?
How could this have happened?