The Assassin and the Knight

by Rick Bonogofsky

  Montgomery placed a calming hand on Jake’s shoulder. “If an angel is involved in whatever is really going on here, then we don’t actually have to worry about another invasion. Plus, Sara is no vampire. To be honest, I have no idea what she is, and that alone scares me more than I care to admit. I’ve seen just about the worst this world has to offer, including demons, and I can honestly admit that there are only three beings who scare me, and one of them is her.”

  The younger dragon processed the information, wondering how Sara could scare Montgomery, while simultaneously fascinating Jake. He sighed and said, “I still don’t like it. We should go back. I have a really bad feeling.”

  Montgomery stared at Jake awhile and shook his head in defeat. “You picked a hell of a woman to fall for,” he sighed. “Fine, let’s go get her out of there.”

  Jake nodded in determination, leading the way back to the labs. When they made it back downstairs, the demons and angels were gone, and Walter was left untied from his chair. Sara’s body lay on the floor, blood pooled around it. The grievous wounds clued the dragons into how she was killed. Jake ran to her corpse and fell to his knees, cradling her head in his hands. Walter and Montgomery looked at each other in confusion, neither able to comprehend how the younger dragon had fallen so heavily for the woman. While Jake shed no tears, he was obviously distraught over Sara’s death. As he knelt beside her, he looked over the wounds.

  “Can she be healed?” he asked numbly.

  Walter shook his head. “I really don’t think so. Her wounds have been cauterized by angel fire. I don’t see how she would survive what happened to her.”

  “You’re a scientist, right?” Jake asked. “You’re supposed to be smart. What if we cut away the burned areas? Would she heal then?”

  “If she were still alive, yes,” Walter shrugged. “Bring her to a table so I can examine her.”

  Montgomery and Jake lifted the chimera’s body to an examination table and Walter looked her over. “To be completely honest, we never harmed her, so I don’t know exactly what kind of damage she can take. We were always very kind and gentle with her until she went into our training simulator.” He slid his hand into Sara’s chest cavity and felt her lungs. “Her lungs are pretty mangled, but still somewhat salvageable. The rest will just have to grow back entirely. But, once we cut away the burned bits and restart her brain, she should be able to heal naturally. At least, if the way demons and angels heal are any indication. There simply is no way this can be fixed medically. I lack the science or equipment to help her. Plus, all of our best surgeons died when Ibsen was killed.”

  “Then our magic will have to suffice once we remove what we can,” Montgomery said, giving Jake a supportive look. “We will do what we can for her.” The dragons and Walter picked up the necessary tools and set to work. Walter and Montgomery did the majority of the work, both having extensive experience as surgeons. Jake handed them the tools they asked for and moved the charred pieces of flesh they removed to another area. He dumped most of Sara’s intestines into a bucket, followed by half of each lung, most of her heart, and several other unidentifiable organs. The work on her innards took a few hours to complete, and once they had, they spent another hour on the areas around the wounds, slicing away at the burned skin. The three men were covered in blood by the end, but they were satisfied with their work.

  “Now to electrify her brain, restarting the synaptic impulses and jump starting her cognitive function,” Walter explained. “I will warn you, however, that she will wake up in excruciating pain. As much as it pains me, she will simply have to endure it. As soon as she regains brain activity, you two need to start the healing process immediately. While you do that, I-”

  “Wait…” Jake interrupted. Walter stopped mid-sentence, and looked offended, as if Jake had slapped him.

  “What?” he asked indignantly.

  “Can’t we heal her, and then wake her up?” Jake asked. “I mean, your way just sounds heartless.”

  Montgomery shifted his gaze to Walter, a question in his eyes.

  Walter stood still, processing Jake’s words. “Well… I hadn’t thought of that. That’s actually a lot better.” His sheepish tone left Jake exasperated, and the young dragon nearly hit the vampire. Keeping his annoyance in check, Jake looked down at Sara’s torn body. He concentrated on his inner fire and held his hands over Sara. A soft blue glow emanated from his fingers, wafting toward the deepest wounds. The light reached Sara’s heart first, knitting the muscle back together, and closing the holes left by the angel’s spear. Once the heart was fully repaired, the light spread to her lungs, stitching the organs back into their natural shape. With the lungs healed, the heart began pumping again, and the lungs slowly filled and emptied. Sara was breathing again within seconds. Her breathing was labored from the great pain she was still feeling, but Sara was alive once more. By some miracle of the young dragon’s magic, she was kept comatose for the duration of the healing. Her other organs grew back, then the ruined bones returned to normal, followed by the missing muscles. Finally, Sara’s smooth skin regrew over the exposed tissue, and she was whole again. Jake let out a long breath and slumped to the floor, his energy spent. As he struggled to get back to his feet, Sara’s eyes fluttered open. She slowly pushed herself to a sitting position, waving away Walter’s attempts to keep her on her back, and looked at Jake. He swallowed hard and felt miniscule under her green eyed gaze. He was acutely aware that she knew he had brought her back.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Adrian left Ibsen’s office, making his way down to the lobby via the stairs. His steps were sluggish and numb, and he barely noticed his surroundings. Knowing his father was dead was one thing, but knowing his own brother was the murderer overwhelmed his emotions. He felt saddened and angry, but more than anything, he felt sick. His stomach twisted into knots and his mind focused on nothing but that damning image of his father on his knees with Vincent’s sword in his back. His hand slid unfeelingly over the stair rail as the assassin walked, and his numbness was all that kept him moving. At the bottom of the stairs, he pushed through a door that led into a room that smelled of burned flesh and magic. He looked around with half lidded eyes and realized he was in the labs under the building. He saw blood pooled in an area where there was once a dead body, then more blood on an examination table nearby.

  Without thinking, he knelt beside the blood on the floor and touched it with his skeletal hand. The vision he saw was of that same woman from Ibsen’s office being brutally killed by Ariel. Despite the sorrow in his chest, Adrian felt the hint of a dark smile creep to his lips. At least she was dead, whoever she was. After the vision passed, Adrian stood and wandered through the labs. There were piles of vampire dust everywhere, but he kept to his path whether he walked through the dust or not. Some curiosity was driving him to investigate the labs. Eventually, he found a room where the vampires were apparently analyzing blood. Without looking at the labels, Adrian figured it belonged to his brother. As he wandered deeper, he found some holding cells. Most were completely empty, while others had deformed lumps of flesh or piles of dust. Further still, the assassin found a room that smelled strongly of magic. His hand unconsciously came up to touch the symbols painted onto the walls. He found that they were the means to amplify spells cast in the room, so he cast a simple detection spell. He was looking for something that would tell him what spell was last cast in the room, hoping to find out what had happened to his brother. Even with the aid of the magical amplification, he found nothing useful, so he left the room, resuming his numb march.

  Eventually, after he had found his way back to the building’s lobby, a thought entered Adrian’s fogged mind. He realized that he had seen Zhun earlier. If she was alive, then it was possible that she was with Ariel, or at least in the angel’s apartment. He remembered that he had told his team to use Ariel’s home as a staging area. Some vague semblance of hope forming in his mind, Adrian ma
de for the apartment. The sick feeling was still filling his gut, but now he had a destination in mind. After two hours of walking, he finally entered the building and walked up the stairs and through the halls until he came to Ariel’s door. He half-heartedly knocked on the door and waited. Within a minute, the door opened and Ariel stood in the doorway in pajamas, her hair matted to one side of her head. Her eyes widened when she looked at Adrian and quickly ushered him inside, bringing him past the living room and into her bedroom without letting his eyes wander. She sat him on her bed in silence and shut her door. Zhun was curled on the floor, asleep and oblivious.

  “What are you doing here?” Ariel whispered. “And what happened to your arm?!”

  Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, still numb from his discoveries, and said nothing. His eyes stared into the middle distance. Absently, he reached toward Zhun, who shifted in her sleep. The demoness’s eyes opened briefly, still mostly asleep, and closed again. They shot open, fully awake, once she realized that Adrian was sitting in the room. Zhun sprang to her feet and knelt in front of Adrian, her hands on his shoulders.

  “Adrian,” she said, “you’re here. And you have your arm back! Not quite what I was imagining… It doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re back with us.”

  Adrian said nothing, but his hands came up to cradle Zhun’s face. As he brought his hands to her cheeks, he looked into her feline eyes, and her heart sank.

  “You know,” she breathed, dread filling her heart. She looked up at Ariel, a question burning in her eyes. The angel shook her head, indicating Adrian had not seen Vincent lying in the living room.

  Tears welled up in Adrian’s eyes, and Zhun quickly waved Ariel out of the room before the assassin lost control of his emotions and broke down in the demoness’s arms.

  Ariel went into the living room and woke Kizrack. The imp rolled over in the chair and his bleary eyes glared at the angel.

  “What?” he growled.

  “We need to get Vincent out of here,” Ariel commanded. “Adrian just showed up and Zhun thinks he knows what happened to your king.”

  Kizrack sat up, wide awake upon hearing his boss was back. “He’s here? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “Just get off your ass and get him out of here,” Ariel hissed. “I don’t want to risk something bad happening before we can fix Vincent. I don’t know what will happen if he sees Adrian while still under the hypnosis.”

  The imp slid off of the chair and picked up the control stick for the rod in Vincent’s spine. He commanded the angel to stand and they walked out of the apartment. Kizrack grumbled the entire way.

  Free of the imp and her brother, Ariel went to the kitchen and made some coffee for herself and the others. While it brewed, she leaned against the counter and heaved a long sigh. She was still exhausted from the previous day. Sobs could occasionally be heard from her bedroom, and the sound broke her heart. She had not known Adrian for very long, but she knew the pain he was feeling. She remembered being so distraught over the loss of her father. After the coffee was finished brewing, Ariel took three mugs of it into her room and handed Zhun and Adrian one each. Adrian was laying on Ariel’s bed, Zhun’s arms wrapped protectively around him. He stared at the ceiling and barely registered the mug of coffee Ariel offered him. He took it, but just set it aside. Zhun took hers and sipped it slowly, while Ariel sat at the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on the Adrian’s left arm.

  The three of them sat in silence for hours, Adrian never moving or speaking. His coffee remained untouched on the nightstand, growing colder as the sun rose. Finally, the assassin stirred, getting up to walk to the bathroom. When he came back, his face was clear of the tracks his tears had made and he looked somewhat refreshed, if still numb and listless.

  “Where’s Vincent?” he asked hoarsely.

  Before Zhun could answer, Ariel cut her off. “He’s with a friend,” was all she said.

  Adrian nodded, but seemed as if he did not hear much of anything. He walked back to the bed and sat down next to Zhun.

  “So you got him out,” he said quietly. Ariel and Zhun could see that his mind was occupied by something that was clearly eating at him.

  “We did,” Zhun offered. “We got your brother out of that place.”

  “Where is he?” Adrian asked again, this time a little more forcefully.

  Ariel and Zhun glanced at each other and they realized he may have known about what the angel had done.

  “Kizrack has him,” Ariel admitted. “I sent them out to give you some space.”

  “Where?” His voice was becoming stronger with each asking of that question.

  “I don’t know,” Ariel stated. “I just told them to leave. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

  “I’ll find out,” Zhun offered. She went to the living room and fished her headset out of the pouch on her belt that was draped over a chair. She pressed the button and raised Kizrack on the other end. “Where are you?” she asked once the imp had answered. She paused a moment, then said, “Okay, stay there. We’re coming to you.”

  “Where are they?” Adrian asked when Zhun put the headset away.

  “On the roof,” she replied. Zhun and Ariel exchanged worried glances, each of them scared or what might happen. Ariel saw a look in Adrian’s eyes that scared her, while that same look utterly terrified Zhun. She knew that look. He had that same look on his face when he left to kill Anna. But, the women were powerless to stop Adrian as he slipped out the window and climbed the fire escape to the roof. He kept at a calm, steady pace, so they were easily able to keep up with him as he went. Up on the rooftop, in the cool morning air, Adrian approached the imp and the angel.

  Kizrack heard the sound of boots on the loose gravel and turned to see who it was. His eyes widened upon seeing his boss approach.

  “Boss, you’re back!” he exclaimed. “Your arm’s all bone, but at least it’s attached.”

  Adrian ignored the imp and reached up to grab Vincent’s shoulder to spin the angel around to face him. Vincent’s eyes were open, but they stared into nothingness.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Adrian asked. In response, Kizrack held up the control stick in a shaking hand.

  “He’s been hypnotized, boss,” the imp explained as Adrian took the control stick. “I had to use the rod if we were going to get him out of there. Otherwise he would have tried to kill us.”

  Adrian looked over the control stick and sent a mental command through it. Vincent’s dead stare and slack pose straightened and his eyes focused on Adrian.

  “Tell me what you did,” the assassin ordered.

  Vincent’s voice came out as if forced from his lungs. “I was made a slave of the vampires, forced to do their bidding and follow their commands. I was a witness to Dante killing Ibsen, along with Sara. While Dante was distracted, I killed him. He died by my hand.”

  Hearing the admission hurt just as bad as witnessing the vision, and Adrian wanted to lash out at his brother. Seeing the rage building in the assassin’s eyes, Kizrack stepped between the two brothers.

  “He was hypnotized, boss,” the imp stated.

  “I know,” Adrian said through clenched teeth. “That’s why he’s still alive.” The tears in his eyes blurred his vision, but he maintained eye contact with Vincent. The angel never blinked. Adrian thought he saw some hidden emotion in his brother’s eyes, but he could not bear to stare at his father’s murderer any longer. He turned on his heel and walked away, tossing the control stick over his shoulder to Kizrack. He met with Ariel and Zhun and motioned for them to follow him. They fell in line behind him and went with him back into the angel’s apartment.

  “Adrian, I am so sorry for what’s going on,” Ariel said as they entered her home. She began to say more, but Adrian stopped her with an upraised hand.

  After a long, uncomfortable silence, during which he took several deep breaths to calm down, Adrian said, “I do not blame you for what has happened. You have been an immense help to my
self and my team, emphasis on myself. Without your help, I would likely not be up and about. Having said that, if you mention anything about what is going on again, know that I will not react in a positive manner.” His voice was even and outwardly calm, but there was an underlying rage that was threatening to burst forth. “Let’s sit down. The three of us have some things to discuss.” While the women sat, Adrian moved about the apartment, shutting the windows and curtains and turning all of the lights off. In the darkness, he pulled a chair over to the coffee table between Ariel and Zhun. He summoned a small ball of silver light to illuminate the room, bathing it in simulated moonlight. Ariel was confused, but Zhun knew what this meant. Adrian was emotionally compromised, and he wanted to do everything he could to keep from losing his control. Sitting in Earth’s moonlight always had a calming effect on his mind, and he had admitted to the demoness years ago that he would always sit under the full moon after a particularly taxing mission, even if he had to wait weeks for it, before ever returning home. It was the only way, he said, to keep from bringing the atrocities he was forced to commit in the name of his kingdom home with him.

  “What’s on your mind, Adrian?” Zhun asked softly.

  Adrian stared up at the false moon as it hovered near the ceiling and let out a long sigh. “I can’t take my brother home with me.”

  “Surely, we can remove the hypnosis and bring him back then?” Zhun asked.

  Adrian was shaking his head before she ever finished. “No. If what he did ever came to light, there would be problems within the kingdom. I know he killed my father, and for that, the punishment is to spend eternity in the Pits. No demon or devil will believe that he was under the effects of mind control. They would instantly sentence him to suffer. And that wouldn’t be the end of it. There would be anarchy as the civil wars began anew, and the fact that an angel killed the king of Hell would undoubtedly spark some kind of conflict with Heaven. Plus, none of them will accept a human on the throne, so my mother’s safety is precarious at best. No doubt some rogue assassin will try to kill her and some other demon or devil will try to usurp the throne from my family. That leaves me. I’m the logical choice for the throne, but I’m not fit to rule anyone. Who would want an assassin as their king?”