The Assassin and the Knight

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The Assassin and the Knight Page 11

by Rick Bonogofsky


  Finally inside the hall leading to her apartment, Ariel fished her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. After entering, she locked the door and collapsed into a chair in the living room. She had no idea what to do to save Vincent, other than calling Heaven for reinforcements and storming the building that likely had more human civilians than vampire combatants. It was far too risky. Too many humans would die in the ensuing carnage. What Ariel needed was a small team of specialists to sneak in and rescue her brother without much bloodshed. She shook her head at the notion. Nearly all angels were too proud to stoop to such clandestine tactics. They would much prefer a straight battle so they could revel in the glory and honor. She knew that many angels secretly hoped for another great war to break out, or at least for Hell to include them in their battles against the vampires. Ariel knew that she would have to look elsewhere for a small team of people to infiltrate the vampire stronghold.

  "-king son of a whore!" cried a voice from outside her door. She glanced in the direction of the sound without much interest. It was likely yet another drugged up vagrant getting mad at anything for whatever reason. Ariel closed her eyes and tried to force herself to relax. She had almost succeeded when there came a flash of purple light and a loud thud on the floor in her kitchen.

  "What the..." Ariel sighed as she leapt to her feet to find out what was going on. She pulled a knife from her pocket and flicked it open, absently thinking to herself that she may end up losing the deposit on the apartment if she got blood on the carpet.

  "This is ridiculous!" a black haired man grumbled as he stood and brushed himself off. Black, dust-like residue fell off his ruined shirt and covered most of his exposed skin. He looked around at his surroundings and grimaced. "Now where am I?" he asked himself.

  "Not someplace you belong," Ariel replied from the opposite side of the counter. The man wheeled around and reached toward his hip, not realizing his sword was no longer there.

  "Shit," he whispered. Seeing the woman brandishing a knife at him, he held his hands up. "I'm not here to hurt you, lady."

  Ariel moved around the counter and faced the man squarely, her knife held firmly between the two of them. "It would be very bad for you to try," she warned. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?"

  The dirty man let his hands drop and he looked around again. "I'm just some lost asshole trying to get home. Clearly, something is wrong with my magic."

  Ariel smirked at him. "Well, you certainly don't belong here, so I suggest you leave. Preferably through the door. If something is wrong with your magic, I don't need you accidentally blowing the place up."

  "You're awfully cavalier about my casual use of magic," he stated dubiously. "You're not human, are you?"

  "No, and neither are you" Ariel said.

  "Well, maybe you can help me, then. I'm Adrian, son of King Dante and Queen Staci of Hell, heir to the throne and a master assassin, and without a damn clue as to how to get my happy ass back home."

  Ariel blinked. She felt her hand lowering of its own accord and she stared at the demon in her kitchen. "But... You died," she stated flatly.

  Adrian looked down at his ruined shirt and the fresh blood that was seeping from his wound. "I did. And then I got better. But now, it looks like I ripped my stitches out. Turns out magical travel is harder on a wounded body than I thought. Also, I think I lost more blood than I thought." With that, his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the floor.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ariel replaced the bandage on Adrian's chest after moving him to the bathroom. At least if he bled all over the floor there, it would be an easy cleanup with minimal risk to her deposit. She hated the fact that she was forced to help him when she had more important things to take care of, but his connections would be invaluable to saving Vincent. Besides, if Adrian messed everything up, Hell would be held accountable instead of Heaven. Even after more than a century, Heaven was still recovering from the losses. Ariel's own army had been completely decimated, and she barely made it out of the battle alive. Without Artemis' warning, she would have been killed with the rest of her soldiers. The guilt of it haunted her day and night, but she kept the feeling buried, not allowing it to distract her from her duty to her people.

  Adrian stirred when Ariel cleaned his wound. It was closing slowly and she could see the progress it had made after the first attempt at stitching it up. Adrian's healing ability was drastically slowed by the weapon's magical qualities, leading Ariel to wonder if the demon had found himself in a fight with an angel. Whatever he had done to deserve such a wound must have been rather severe. She figured she would ask him sometime after he woke. For the time being, however, Ariel wanted to get back to relaxing and coming up with ways to save her brother. She went back to her chair and slumped into the seat, reaching for the remote to her stereo system as she did. With the press of a button, soft jazz started playing. Its calming effects took place immediately. Her breathing slowed, and her heart rate went down. The stiffness in her muscles melted away. Differing battle strategies came to mind, but nothing that would help her get past that alley door. She held up the remote and hit a button. The jazz changed to classical music from before the First World War. Ariel had always had a soft spot for that era of human history. The early twentieth century was easily her favorite, particularly the 1920s. More ideas floated through her head, but nothing useful seemed to stick. After several minutes, she held up the remote again. The classical changed to rock, heavy metal music from the early twenty-first century. This music was much more violent and aggressive than much of her music collection, and it typically helped the most when she needed to solve a problem. It was her experience that every now and again, brute force was necessary to win. A particular song came on - one of her favorites - and she had an epiphany. Adrian was a master assassin and prince of Hell. It would stand to reason that he would have his own team of elite warriors under his command. Once he was awake, Ariel would ask him to help her save Vincent. Even if he was a demon, he would still have to have some feelings for his own brother, she thought.

  Zhun leaned against a low wall of a rooftop as she stared at the steel door in the alleyway where Vincent was taken.

  “This isn’t good,” she stated through her headset.

  “What’s the situation?” Berron asked.

  “The vampires got him,” Zhun replied. “And it looks like an angel has taken an interest in our knight.”

  There was a long silence. “You’re kidding…” Berron deadpanned.

  “I wish I was,” Zhun muttered, slinking away from the edge of the rooftop. “She’s pretty, I’ll give her that, but I don’t see why one of Heaven’s own would be getting involved in Hell’s business.”

  “Maybe they realize what might be at stake here with an angel killing the prince,” Berron offered. “I mean, politically, that’s… well it’s pretty bad.”

  “No kidding. Either way, I’m gonna keep an eye on her. She got pretty mad when the vamps took Vincent, so this may get interesting.”

  “Depends on what her intentions are,” Berron mused. “Could be that she wants to kill Vincent to stop some kind of potential incident. We don’t want that. King Dante definitely doesn’t want him dead or he would have just executed him on the spot. So it falls to us to keep the poor bastard alive.”

  “That’s a laugh,” Zhun giggled. “Aren’t we always doing the opposite?”

  “We exist to serve the crown and keep the royal family alive,” Berron reminded. “Technically, keeping people alive is exactly what we do. Even if that means killing other people to get that job done.”

  Zhun rolled her feline eyes. “Which makes us pro-life murderers,” she sighed. “I’ll track down our angel girl and get some information. Talk to you later.”

  “Good. Be safe and be careful.”

  Adrian awoke in Ariel’s bathtub, drenched in sweat and blood. His head swam as he tried to get out of the tub, but his hand, slick with blood, slipped from under him
. His head slammed into the edge and he saw stars. The noise must have caught Ariel's attention because she came into the bathroom within seconds.

  “This may be a stupid question, but how are you doing?” she asked.

  “Ugh… Pretty close to not great at the moment,” Adrian grunted. “I’m not used to being wounded this long.”

  Ariel nodded. “You must have been hit with an angel weapon,” she guessed as much as stated. A thought came to her mind and she realized something terrible. “Hang on… You’re hurt, stabbed by an angelic weapon, and Vincent is on Earth. What did you do to make him mad enough to attack you?”

  The demon shot a baleful glare at her. “How do you know Vincent?”

  “He’s my brother,” Ariel replied sharply. “And I know you’re his brother, too, so calm down. It’s not like you two are all that unknown among the people of Heaven. The humans, sure, but not the angels. Now what happened between you two? What did you do?”

  Adrian shrugged, eliciting a wince, and shook his head. “Something stupid that had to be done. I was tracking a traitor, evidence pointed to one of Vincent’s knights, and I killed her. He was in love with her, though. So, he stabbed me.”

  “You killed the woman he loved?” Ariel balked. “What did she do?”

  “She gave angelic weapons to the vampires.”

  The angel paused, thinking about the demon’s words. “That doesn’t seem right. She would have taken these weapons from one of your kingdom’s caches, right?”

  Adrian nodded, once more pulling himself to a sitting position in the bathtub.

  “From what I’ve seen, all of the guards seem very loyal to your kingdom,” Ariel stated. “Plus, those caches never open.”

  “You know a lot about this,” Adrian muttered, an accusatory tone creeping into his voice. His hand griped the edge of the tub tightly.

  “Lord Ra occasionally sends angels out to check on the caches to make certain nothing goes wrong,” Ariel confessed. “Think of it as added security.”

  “Or spying,” Adrian growled.

  “Call it what you will, I don’t care. The point is, I know what happened.”

  Adrian sat back in the tub, taken by surprise. “What?”

  “Yes. Some vampires came in and killed your guards, leaving the one knight alive. I didn’t know why at the time. I now realize they meant to frame her. Seems like it worked,” she said, motioning to the bloody wound on Adrian’s chest.

  The demon pored over the new revelations and nodded. “Seems like a lot to go through for some weapons when they’re already at war with our people… But it does explain some things.” He slumped in the tub and closed his eyes. His hand came up to the hole left in his chest by Vincent’s sword. It still hurt. But it was a painful reminder of what he had done. “That means she died for nothing,” he whispered. “She was as much a victim as any of us, and I didn’t see it. I killed her, and in so doing, I took away my brother’s happiness… I ignored the signs and went with my gut instinct, and she died. I deserve this…”

  Ariel sat awkwardly by his side, unsure of what to do. Her disgust with what Adrian had done was equaled by her pity for the poor man. Seeing this demon laying in her bathtub, weak and morose, brought burning memories to her mind. Memories of a far off time, long since passed. Then, she was a helpless girl, love-struck and blind. She had left that side of herself behind long ago.

  “Well, I’m going to see if I can find anything to help you out,” Ariel said, wanting to get away from the depressing sight of Adrian. She walked to her kitchen and absently fumbled through the drawers and cabinets. Eventually, she found the first aid kit her landlord had left. For once, Ariel was glad for the frailty of humans. She opened the kit and rummaged through it, hoping to find something useful to treat Adrian’s wound. After finding only a few things, she went to her bedroom and pulled a needle and thread from her sewing kit. Supplies in hand, Ariel went back to the bathroom and knelt on the floor beside the bathtub.

  “I only have hydrogen-peroxide, gauze, and some tape, plus a few sewing supplies” Ariel admitted.

  “Should be fine,” Adrian sighed. “Maybe… I don’t know, I’ve never needed to be stitched up before. Being wounded and helpless is new to me, to be honest.”

  “Being the big bad assassin man, I’m sure,” Ariel said, rolling her eyes. “Now hold still, this might hurt a bit. I think.” She poured the hydrogen-peroxide onto the wound and watched it bubble. Adrian winced and stared in disbelief.

  “Why do the humans use this?” he asked.

  “I’m told it cleans the wound. From the looks of it, I’m sure I’d prefer the cleaning paste used in Heaven. At least that’s painless.”

  Adrian nodded, but kept still otherwise. He patiently waited for the liquid to do its work and helped Ariel clean the wound. Scar tissue had already begun to form from the last time the wound was tended, and it was half healed. However, the wound was still deep and much of the tissue was torn apart and unsalvageable.

  “Um… Adrian?” Ariel asked, looking into the wound with a confused and worried look on her face.

  “Yes?”

  “Where’s your heart?”

  “What?

  “I don’t see your heart. The wound goes deep enough the see inside your ribcage, but I don’t see your heart. Demons do have hearts, don’t you?”

  “Of course we have hearts! What do you mean you don’t see my heart?”

  “It’s… well… Wait, I think I see something in there.” Ariel rummaged through one of the drawers in the bathroom and pulled out a pair of tweezers. “Hold still.”

  Adrian began to sweat nervously, unsure of what the angel was up to. He watched, horrified, as she slipped the tweezers through the gaping hole in his chest and grabbed something. As Ariel began to pull on the object, he felt a strong, ripping pain erupt within him.

  “Agh! Whatever you have a hold of is attached!” Adrian shouted.

  Ariel stopped pulling and held perfectly still. “I’m so sorry!” she whispered. “But it looks like a big scab. I don’t think this should be left in there.”

  Adrian took a deep breath and nodded, saying, “Fine… get it out of me.”

  Ariel pulled again and Adrian cut back a scream. Whatever she was pulling out was firmly in place, but he could feel it tearing away. After a moment of tugging, Ariel had the black lump removed. Blood dripped from one side of the thing and Adrian and Ariel stared at it in disbelief. It was shriveled and dry, but was unmistakable in its appearance.

  “Is that my heart?” Adrian breathed.

  Ariel could do nothing more than simply nod.

  “How am I still alive?” the demon inquired.

  Ariel shook her head, completely at a loss. All she could do was stare at the dried husk that was once Adrian’s heart.

  Adrian gasped as another wave of pain assaulted him, radiating out from his wound. The noise broke Ariel out of her trance and she snapped her gaze to the demon.

  “Can you look in there again?” Adrian asked, teeth gritting in pain.

  The angel nodded and dropped the tweezers and lump of heart. She summoned a tiny ball of light in her hand and sent it into the wound to give her a better look.

  “There’s something shiny lodged in what’s left of your sternum,” she said. “I may need some pliers for this.”

  Adrian shot a glare at her, but nodded. She left the bathroom and went to the hall closet, returning a moment later with her tool bag. After briefly rifling through the bag, Ariel produced a pair of pliers and a rubber-gripped screwdriver and leaned over Adrian once more.

  “Bite down in this,” she instructed, offering the screwdriver to Adrian. He took it without a word and bit down on the rubber handle as Ariel took hold of the metal piece with the pliers. With a nod from Adrian, she placed a bracing hand on his shoulder and made a swift, sharp pull. Adrian screamed through the handle of the screwdriver as the piece of metal was ripped from the bone. Ariel fell against the wall from the sudden rel
ease and checked the pliers. Within the jaws of the pliers was a half-inch sliver of angelic metal.

  “Did you get it?” Adrian wheezed, his words muffled by the handle of the screwdriver.

  Ariel nodded. She looked at Adrian with a mildly impressed look on her face. “Looks like I managed to fix you,” she stated.

  Adrian looked down at his chest and saw that the wound was slowly closing. It was making visible progress while he watched, but it would still be at least an hour before it was fully healed. He spat out the screwdriver and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. How do you think you’ll fare without a heart, though?”

  Adrian shrugged, slowly pulling himself out of the tub. “This is uncharted territory for me just as much as it is for you,” he said. “But, I’m still alive. By what means or for what purpose, I have no idea.” He shifted his ruined shirt, pulling the dried, sticky fabric from his skin and looked forlornly at the tattered remains. “I don’t suppose you have a shirt you might be able to lend me?” he asked.

  Ariel sighed, but nodded and left the bathroom. She was back momentarily with a men’s shirt roughly Adrian’s size. Answering his questioning glance, she said, “An old boyfriend left it behind. Keep it.”

  Adrian smiled in thanks and peeled the sticky remnants of his own shirt off of himself while Ariel left the room.

  “Take a shower,” she said, closing the door behind her. Through the door, she added, “Towels are on the shelf. Don’t get blood on them.”

  Zhun sat invisible outside one of the windows of Ariel’s apartment. She watched, bored, as the angel came out of the bathroom, her mouth moving in speech. The feline demoness touched the button on her headset and waited.

  “Yes?” came Berron’s voice.

  “I’ve found our angel friend,” Zhun reported.

  “Specify.”

  “The woman,” Zhun replied flatly, rolling her eyes. “I think she has a guest.”

  “Is the guest important?” Berron asked.

 

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