The Assassin and the Knight

by Rick Bonogofsky

  Dante sighed. He had to think of some way to convince the angel to go with his plan. His rage at the vampires had subsided somewhat, but he still wanted them to pay for invading his home and endangering his family. He saw no way out, but to give Ra exactly what he wanted. “I’ll tell you what. With the vampire threat eliminated, I will have no need to guard the weapons you want. Help me in this endeavor, and they are yours.”

  Amun-Ra looked into Dante’s ruby eyes and searched for any ill intent. Seeing only honesty, he nodded. “Then we have a tentative agreement. I will lend you an archangel, along with an army, and you will add your own forces to take down this growing threat. Our people will finally be united after far too long.” He extended his hand to Dante, who clasped it heartily and they shook on their newfound alliance.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The phone on Ibsen’s desk rang, drawing his attention away from the company’s quarterly reports. He glanced at the display and noticed the call came in on the line reserved for the labs downstairs. The vampire lord picked up the receiver and answered.

  “You should get down here, sir,” came the voice of the lead scientist. “Our outer warehouses have found a rather surprising new discovery and sent over their notes. We’ve duplicated their research and feel you should see what we’ve come up with.”

  “I’ll be down momentarily,” Ibsen replied. He hung up the phone and smiled, rising from his chair to head for the labs. As he exited his office, he passed by Mary’s desk and told her he would be unavailable. The human woman nodded eagerly and continued her work. Ibsen ignored her and kept walking. He went to his private elevator and pushed the button for the laboratory level. On the way down he mused to himself about what new discovery his people may have found. He hoped it would help keep the hybrids stable enough to survive to maturity. Those creatures were going to present him with the best opportunity to take over Hell.

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing Ibsen to make his way into the labs. The lead scientist broke away from his conversation with an underling and greeted the vampire lord with an excited grin.

  “Hello, sir,” he beamed. “I’m glad you’re here. We just received word from one of our outer warehouses that could prove incredibly useful to our experiments.”

  “Good,” Ibsen replied. “What is the new development?”

  The scientist led Ibsen to a nearby observation room where some of the hybrids sat. These new specimens were much more fully formed than the last batch, looking much better this time. They were not at peak ability, however. Some limped along at an agonizing pace, while others simply dragged a useless limb as they tried to get around.

  “Well, they do look a lot better,” Ibsen nodded. “Still not complete, though.”

  “I agree, sir, but this is a huge step forward from where we were the last time you came down here.”

  Ibsen had to agree with that. “What brought this change? What did the other labs find that you did not?”

  The scientist led the vampire to a nearby computer and brought up a diagram. “Do you see the blue and the red here? The blue is werewolf DNA, and the red is Vampire.” He pressed a button and the red and blue helixes twisted together, forming a purple DNA strand. “Now, you remember, the DNA mixed perfectly on the cellular level, but physically, the specimens were… well, they were utter garbage. Now, add in this green bit here.” He pressed another button on the keyboard and a green gas-like image appeared on the screen. It enveloped the purple DNA strand and covered it completely. “We introduced residual radiation from the area around our other labs, courtesy of the war and its nuclear fallout, and we get a much more controlled specimen outcome. Thus, our friends in the cell there.”

  “Color me impressed,” Ibsen said, silently berating himself for the unintended pun. He looked at the screen and let the information sink in. “So you’re able to control which traits appear in the creature before incubation?”

  “To a certain degree, yes. Admittedly, even our advanced technology has yet to crack the entirety of Vampire or Werewolf DNA. It is simply impossible to scientifically explain how magic can affect the genetic structure. Magical effects can often be completely unquantifiable at the very best. But, with the help of this radiation, we can finally begin researching how to make these creatures viable as an asset to our goals.”

  “Very good,” Ibsen praised. “Keep up on the experiments and update me when you have something new.”

  “Yes, sir,” the scientist nodded as the vampire lord went back to the elevator to return to his other duties. After a brief ride in the elevator, he made it back to his office, where a small piece of paper rested on his desk. He picked it up and scanned the slanting, overly looped letters and smiled. The vampire lord walked around his desk and pressed a button on the phone display.

  “Yes, sir?” Mary asked from her desk’s phone.

  “Send word down to the labs. They’re about to receive a delivery.”

  Adrian paced in the tiny hut, wondering just what he should do to stave off the boredom. His wound was healing nicely now that it was stitched up, but it still pained him to stretch the muscles in his chest. But he was getting bored with simply sitting around healing, and it was driving him crazy. He had to get out and do something before he burned the hut down. His hands twitched and his eyes darted from shadow to shadow.

  “Nothing for it,” he muttered, casting his gaze toward the door leading outside. “Might as well…” He pulled his ruined shirt over his head and painfully strapped his armor on. Looking down at the ragged hole left in the leather, he decided against the armor and used a knife from the nearby table to cut it off. After shrugging the armor off of himself, Adrian made for the door and pushed it aside. The midday sun was high in the sky, reflecting brightly off the fresh snow. Everything the demon could see was a shade of white or grey, and the light stung his eyes. After spending several days in the dimly lit hut, he was not used to such a bright light. Even Hell was not as brightly lit as the surrounding area. Adrian blinked and took a long while to let his eyes adjust. Even so, he kept his hand up to block the sun and squinted his eyes against the brightness of the snow. A breeze picked up some loose flakes and he shivered. He had never been in a place as cold as Siberia without adequate protection from the elements, and he wished he had one of the fur coats the locals wore.

  He walked around the hut, looking for anything of interest, but found nothing. The racks the villagers used to dry fish stood empty, piled with snow and ice. The furs that once rested on the hooks attached to the hut were gone, taken by the fishermen in their fearful flight from the demon. Adrian sighed and held his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. There had to be something nearby he could use to survive the cold. Nothing was readily available. It seemed the locals had run off with everything the demon could have used. Exasperated, Adrian turned toward the nearby woods. At the very least, he could find some fallen branches to burn. Realizing he still had firewood in the hut, he shook his head and chuckled at himself.

  “You’ve got nearly everything you need in that hovel,” he told himself. “Well, almost everything… I need food.” He made his way back to the hut, and the warmth it held, and wondered how he was going to get out of the area. Once back in the hut, a thought struck the demon. He realized his family probably thought he was dead. His heart sank at the thought of his grieving parents. There was no heir to the throne until Adrian returned home, and that could cause no end of trouble for the kingdom. The possibility of another civil war breaking out was higher now than ever. Enemies of the crown would use this opportunity to strike, hoping to usurp the throne from Dante. Worse still, the vampires could return, using Adrian’s absence as an invitation to invade again.

  The assassin felt his face flush with anger and he took a smoldering coal from the fireplace. He cleared a space on the wood floor and began to draw a teleportation circle. The symbols glowed to life with a soft red light as he finished each of them, and the lines of the circle flared purpl
e as they were completed. It took him a few minutes to put on the finishing touches, amplifying the strength and accuracy of the spell. Once Adrian was done, he looked over his handiwork. There were no mistakes or imperfections, the circle was expertly drawn. Nodding in satisfaction, he stepped in the center and spoke the command word. The runes glowed red and the circle itself shimmered in response. A strong wind blew through the hut, whipping his shirt and hair around. Flashes of light burst forth, obscuring Adrian’s vision, and his surroundings shifted. He was suddenly lifted off his feet and he felt the sensation of falling through the air. Remembering the disorientation usually felt by traveling in this manner, Adrian shut his eyes. When he felt his feet hit solid ground, he reopened them and looked around.

  “Son of a…” he gasped. He was in a different place, but not where he wanted to be. He was in the middle of a forest, somewhere warmer than the place he had left behind. It obviously was not Siberia, but he was confused. Adrian was still on Earth, but had no idea where. The fact that his teleportation circle had failed frustrated and baffled him. There was no reason it should have failed to send him where he wanted to go. The runes were correct, the lines were perfect, and he spoke the proper command. “Whatever,” he said to himself. “Guess I’ll just have to figure out where I am and see if I can find someone who can help me.” He began walking in a direction he hoped would lead to civilization.

  Vincent followed the drifter into alley after alley, hoping the human was taking him someplace where he could get to Heaven. His impatience must have shown on his face, though, because the drifter grinned when he looked back at the angel.

  “We’ll be there shortly, young sir, that I promise you,” he said, once again sending his sour breath wafting past Vincent’s nose. Another man caught up to the drifter and whispered something to him that the angel could not hear. The drifter looked at the man questioningly and the other man nodded. The drifter waved him away and turned to Vincent.

  “Seems we have some unwanted company following us. I’m not sure what the intent there is, but I don’t like it. We’re going to have to take a slight detour to lose them. Don’t want undesirables in Heaven, you know.”

  Vincent nodded, but felt ill at ease with this new development. Why were these men, who were obviously not angels, so worried about someone following them? What could they have been up to that would require so much secrecy? Surely they knew to hide whatever they were doing from the other humans, so who could have been following them? Dante had exiled him from Hell, so no demonic assassins would be sent to kill him. Unless, of course, one of Adrian’s lieutenants took it upon him- or herself to exact vengeance for the master assassin’s murder, but they were unlikely to take up such a task. And there would be no reason for Heaven to send an angel after him, especially if he was already on his way there. Something felt wrong about the whole thing, but Vincent was eager to get away from Earth.

  The group took a sharp turn down another alley, and they slipped into an open door leading into an apartment building. They cut through several halls and then left through the main doors. They walked down the sidewalk for a short time, then crossed the street and went into another alley. As far as Vincent could tell, they were headed deeper into the downtown area, heading generally toward the larger buildings at the heart of the city. This realization was beginning to make him nervous. He had thought the drifter would take him to some abandoned building to summon a portal to Heaven or draw a teleportation circle, far from the prying eyes of the humans. Instead, it seemed the drifter had a specific destination in mind, and they were making as straight a line for it as they could while still remaining somewhat hidden. They continued down the alley until they came to another street. The drifter held out a hand to halt the group and peeked around the buildings. Satisfied, he motioned to everyone to follow him. Just as they stepped out into the street, a red-haired woman fell out of the sky, landing nimbly on her feet in front of Vincent. Some of the men in the group attacked her, but they fell quickly to her rapid strikes and ruthless assault. They groaned in pain, but they were alive and would easily survive. She carried no weapon that Vincent could see. She turned around to look at the angel and smiled. Vincent gasped in shock, recognizing her as the barista from the café he had been frequenting.

  “Yes, I’m Ariel,” she replied, seeing the recognition in his eyes. “And you’re Vincent, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “How do you know who I am?” Vincent asked, his mind racing in confusion.

  “There haven’t been any angels in service to Hell in all of history. You’re a bit of a celebrity. Plus, you look just like your father.”

  “Dante’s not my father.”

  “I didn’t mean Dante,” Ariel quipped. “We need to get out of here, it isn’t safe for you.”

  Before Vincent could ask her what she meant, the drifter rose up behind her and hit her over the head with a brick. Ariel didn’t go down, but she was briefly stunned. Using the distraction, the drifter grabbed Vincent by the arm and pulled him away. The angel resisted, but the drifter was uncannily strong for a human. He dragged Vincent down another alley and through a steel door in the back of a large building. The room they entered was dark and smelled of metal and disinfectant.

  “Let go of me!” Vincent shouted, tugging his arm free of the drifter’s grip. He turned around, feeling for the door. He found it, but there was no knob or handle to open it. Vincent slammed his fists on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “There’s no escape for you now, little angel,” The drifter stated.

  Vincent calmed himself and let the enchantment on his ring fade away, dissipating the illusion hiding his wings, armor, and sword. With another thought, his angelic armor started gleaming, glowing brighter and brighter until the room was fully lit. The drifter looked at the angel as if for the first time and began backing away. There was an angry light in the angel’s eyes and a feral sneer playing across his lips.

  “See here, boy,” the drifter began, holding his hands in front of him in defense. “I’m just a delivery man for these people. They pay me to bring them what they ask me to, nothing more. I mean you no harm at all.” He continued backing away as Vincent advanced on him, brushing past metal operating tables and workbenches with trays full of surgical tools. Hands shaking, the drifter reached for a scalpel and brandished it at the angel. Undeterred, Vincent drew his sword in response. With one swift strike, the drifter’s hand fell to the floor, still clutching the scalpel. He screamed, staring at the bloody stump, and turned to run. Vincent was faster, however. With a sharp flap of his wings, he easily closed the distance and grabbed the drifter’s shoulder. He spun the whimpering man around and drove the angelic sword through his gut. The drifter gasped as the air left his lungs and he choked in pain. Vincent twisted the blade and wrenched it free. The drifter fell to his knees and rolled to the floor into a fetal position, sobbing in agony. His blood poured through the fingers of his remaining hand. He was dead in minutes.

  A pounding at the door made Vincent wheel around.

  “Vincent!” came Ariel’s voice, muted somewhat by the metal door.

  Just as he was about to respond, another door across the room opened and several large vampires wearing black pants and shirts rushed in. They were faster and stronger than Vincent had ever seen, and he was quickly lifted off his feet. There was a vampire holding each of his limbs in a vice-like grip, making it impossible for the angel to wriggle free, no matter how much he fought. The vampires brought him through the door they entered from and over to another, smaller vampire. This one wore a white lab coat over a tailored suit and he held a syringe with a clear liquid in his hand.

  “Hold him still, boys,” he commanded. His voice was calm and almost pleasant, yet filled with authority. The vampires holding Vincent stretched him out and forced him to stay still while the other vampire stuck the syringe in his neck and pushed on the plunger. The liquid entered Vincent’s bloodstream like a cold acid and pain radiated through his body.
He screamed aloud and tried to thrash away from his captors. The grip they had on him only tightened. After the initial pain subsided, Vincent felt his head start swimming. The room spun and he felt himself lose consciousness. Right before his vision went black, he heard the smaller vampire command the larger ones to take him to the lab.

  Ariel slammed on the door, but it refused to budge. Every time she punched it, a soft blue light would flow outward from the point of impact. It was magically sealed, likely warded against unwanted intrusion. She swore under her breath and began to pace, trying to come up with some way to save her brother. Her fists clenched so tight her knuckles went white.

  "Fucking vampires!" she shouted. A sound in the alley caused her to whip around, fists up in defense. She saw a homeless man running out of the alley, clearly afraid for his life. Ariel lowered her hands sheepishly and took one more look at the steel door. There was no way she would be able to open it herself and waiting here would only invite trouble. She would have to stake the place out and find whatever way in that she could. Resigned to the task ahead, Ariel left the alley.

  Her path took her back toward the apartment she had been renting during her time on Earth. The dwelling was simply meant to be a centralized base of operations for her, but it had quickly become a home away from home. Her mission on Earth was to keep an eye on the vampires' activities within the city, but when she found out that Vincent had been banished to Earth, she felt the need to reach out to him. After learning of her father's demise at the hands of Dante, she thought she was the last of her family. When news had reached Heaven of Vincent's true parentage, Ariel wanted nothing more than to meet her brother. However, with the troubles in Hell and her own assignments to attend to, she never had the chance. Now, he was on Earth, within her area, and she was determined to meet him after all this time.