“This might get interesting,” Jake whispered to himself. Sara squeezed his hand and when he looked at her, he realized she had no idea what they were talking about. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Actually, Jake,” Fafnir interrupted, “you should probably report to the higher ups about this. They’ll want to know what’s going on, and I’d rather not risk putting you or Sara in danger in case this goes decidedly sideways.”
Jake nodded, trusting the elder dragon’s judgment.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
By the time Adrian awoke, night had fallen over Hell and his body was wracked with pain. It hurt to move or breath, but he forced himself to a sitting position. He was hungry, hungrier than he had ever been, and he knew why. His anger bubbled to the surface, threatening to send him into a blind rage. He had hated vampires all throughout his life, and now he had actually become one. His fists clenched against the pain and anger, Adrian stood from his bed and made for the door. The smell of something enticing wafted past his nostrils and he followed the scent to its source, a pile of plastic bags set on his desk. Adrian’s vampiric senses were already heightening. He moved to the desk and inspected the bags. They were full of human blood, stolen from a hospital on Earth, no doubt. His two remaining elites must have brought these for him to feed on once he was awake. He picked up the first bag and cut a slit in the top, drinking the lukewarm liquid in a few hungry gulps. The pain in his body began to subside as the blood ran down his throat, and he tossed the empty bag aside. He picked up the next bag and drank its contents, drinking until the hunger was abated. When he was finished, there were only two bags left, which he stowed in a pocket of his coat. Satisfied, but still angry at becoming a vampire, Adrian pushed his way through the door. He was greeted by Zhun and Kizrack, who were sitting in the common room waiting for him to wake from his death.
“How are you feeling?” Zhun asked.
“Pissed,” Adrian grunted.
“No surprise there,” Kizrack quipped.
“Did the plan at least work?” Adrian asked, changing the subject.
Kizrack stood from his seat. “It did, but there are some complications. We were able to track him down, but it appears that he has left Hell.”
“Where is he, then?”
“Romania,” Zhun answered. “Particularly central Romania, but we don’t know why or where he’s going.”
Adrian breathed a heavy sigh. “Dammit… I know where he’s going. He’s going after Vincent. Somehow, he knows where I left him, and Helgrathin is going to either kill him or gain control of him. I’ll have to go back to Scholomance and kill him for good this time. Did you learn anything else?”
“We did, boss,” Kizrack said. “This vampire first met with some of the original demons in charge of the armies on the other side of the civil wars. We listened in and found out that they are going to be moving forward with their plans to overthrow the kingdom.”
“Helgrathin is trying to split my focus… Fine. I’ll go after him and Vincent, you two prepare the troops for the coming battles. If our enemies are the same as last time, this should end the same way it did back then. As soon as the fighting starts, dispatch some assassins to take out the leaders. We will show the dissenters that I will not tolerate treason in my home. You take care of things here, I’ll be back when I’m able.” Before Zhun or Kizrack could stop him, Adrian went to the teleportation room and conjured a portal near Scholomance. After he stepped through the portal, he approached the small building. A thin line of smoke rose out of the chimney, letting the assassin know that everything seemed to be alright. Without knocking, Adrian opened the door and walked right in. A few students’ heads whipped around to see who was entering, and they looked in surprise at the assassin. Alighier came around the corner in a huff and stopped in his tracks when he saw Adrian.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I sent you on your way hours ago.”
Adrian had to take a moment to process the old man’s words. “I was here already?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Do you not remember?” Alighier asked slowly as realization crept into his wrinkled old eyes. “That wasn’t you who came here, then.”
“Nope,” Adrian said. “It was a vampire named Helgrathin, who is pretty good at using disguising magic. Did he take my brother?”
Alighier nodded in shame. “I thought it was you. He came in and I told him that your brother was not ready to be taken yet. We have not had enough time to accurately locate the root of the spell work left there by the vampires. This vampire said it did not matter, and took Vincent away. He has the control rod you gave me. I’m so sorry, I thought it was you.”
Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You didn’t know… I forgive you. Just… be ready in case something really bad happens. This guy has been pulling the strings in Hell’s underworld for a lot longer than I thought, so there’s a possibility he’ll try to start another war. He’s already laid the groundwork for another civil war in Hell, which my elites are handling right now. Do you happen to know where he went?”
Alighier shrugged. “I’m not sure, but he used our teleportation room. He should be easy to track.”
“Good,” Adrian breathed. “Let’s get down there and send me in the right direction.”
Seconds after teleporting away, Adrian found himself standing in what could only be described as a broom closet. He shifted his body in the darkness and felt for a doorknob. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and opened the door. He was in an empty office building, likely an old bank or law firm. Soft moonlight filtered in through the dust covered windows and the faint smell of magic was still hanging in the air. Helgrathin was not far ahead of him. Adrian walked through the building at a brisk pace, looking for any clues leading to the vampire’s direction. All he found was an old bathroom sign. The images gave away the information, which almost helped, because the language of the lettering was unreadable to the assassin. He at least recognized the letters as coming from a country in Eastern Europe, which helped him figure out where on Earth he happened to be. Not that it narrowed the options down very much. He continued through that floor of the building, and eventually found some stairs leading to the other levels. A large number twelve was glued to the wall next to the door frame he exited. Adrian sniffed the air to find out where the vampire may have gone. His nose led him up the stairs, toward the roof of the building, so he began climbing.
At the top of the stairs, Adrian carefully crept through the door, sword drawn. If Helgrathin was on the roof, his options for escape would be limited, unless he had a way of flying away. Adrian wanted to leave the vampire with as little time to escape as possible. He peered around the corner of the doorway to gain a better view of the building’s rooftop, and saw Helgrathin and Vincent standing in front of a pair of humanoid figures. The vampire’s back was to Adrian and the angel stood next to him with shoulders slumped and his hands hanging limply at his sides. The two men talking to Helgrathin were too focused on the vampire to notice Adrian hiding in the shadows. The assassin could not identify them, but he figured out that one was a werewolf. His heightened hearing was picking up the individual heartbeats. Helgrathin’s heartbeat was steady and calm, as were the other two men. Vincent’s heartbeat, however, was erratic and strained. Adrian felt concerned for his brother. It seemed to him that the control rod was still in his spine. He cast a spell to make himself invisible and moved closer to the group, making sure to keep downwind of the werewolf. His stealth would be undone by a single sniff of the dog’s nose.
“... think this union is wise?” Helgrathin was asking as Adrian crept within earshot.
The werewolf spoke up, saying, “Of course it is. Think about it, with the werewolves and vampires allied with each other once again, we will be much stronger than we would be apart.”
“Plus, the vampires need a strong ally right now with their numbers so low,” the other man added. His voice was strong and commandi
ng, but carried with it a subtle ancient power that left Adrian uncomfortable. He could not quite pinpoint what the man was, but he got the feeling he was looking at a dragon in human form.
“Fafnir is right,” the werewolf stated. “I know our people have had their differences, but that’s all in the past. I say we treat with our leaders and work toward a renewed alliance.”
“With all due respect, Fenrir,” Helgrathin began, “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been saying. There is no need to worry about the vampires. I’ve turned Hell on its head and laid the groundwork for a new civil war. Even their new king is a vampire by now. My long years in Hell have finally come to a head and my plans are once again being fulfilled. As long as everything goes as I have planned, Hell will be an ally to the vampires within no more than a few months’ time. So, I will not be asking vampire high command to play with your kind again. There are still enough of us around who remember your furry kind’s betrayal of poor Elizabeth. The war that followed was too devastating to risk repeating.”
Fenrir frowned upon hearing Helgrathin’s words. “That’s really a shame. My father was willing to see if things could be patched up between himself and the countess.”
“It doesn’t matter what this vampire says,” Fafnir said, putting a placating hand on Fenrir’s shoulder. “We’re still going to meet with Countess Bathory this week whether Helgrathin agrees or not.”
“Be careful what you say, beast,” Helgrathin warned. “Aside from our esteemed countess, I am now one of the oldest vampires on Earth. My seniority still grants me certain benefits.”
“You’re still young compared to my people,” Fafnir countered. “Do not make the mistake of thinking you’re the dominant species on this planet just because you’ve been around for a few measly centuries, and don’t forget who it was that pulled your kind from the shadows to live among the humans in the sunlight.”
“Either way,” Fenrir interjected. “We need to be at peace. There’s already too much wrong with the world to go back to waging wars against each other.”
Helgrathin let out a haughty scoff and turned to walk away. “It doesn’t matter much,” he said. “Once Hell is mine, I will have no need for any of this, and I’ll create my own race of people.” He walked away, with Vincent following his lead, and went back down the stairs, walking right past the hidden assassin. Adrian hung back to listen in on the werewolf and the dragon.
“I fucking hate him,” Fenrir admitted once the vampire was well out of earshot.
“I know, buddy,” Fafnir sighed. “But it was your father’s idea to talk to him. At least we tried. Now, we can hopefully schedule something with Bathory and get these talks in motion.”
Fenrir nodded, but his face belied his anger. “I’m just glad my father said yes to the alliance with your people so easily. He’s not usually so quick to trust anyone these days.”
“That was a nice surprise. Anyway, let’s get back to Jake. He and Sara are probably already waiting for us.” They turned and left through a portal Fafnir summoned, leaving Adrian invisible and alone on the rooftop.
“Interesting,” Adrian commented. “But I’m not after them…” He let his invisibility fade and slipped back into the building to follow Helgrathin and Vincent. Peeking over the side of the stairs, Adrian looked down the stairwell. He saw his quarry moving at a comfortable pace down the stairs. The assassin cast a simple tracking spell and marked Helgrathin with an invisible beacon that Adrian could follow by sensing the magical emanations. The spell was simple, but useful. Once marked, the vampire could teleport all the way across the planet, and Adrian would still be able to locate him. It was just a precaution, though, in the off chance that Helgrathin was able to lose the assassin tailing him. Adrian kept the same pace as the vampire, making sure he kept as silent as possible. He needed to see where else the vampire was going if he was to understand the true breadth of his plans. If he was plotting to take over Hell, Helgrathin was going to need supporters, and Adrian needed to know exactly who he was going to have to add to his list of people to kill.
Helgrathin wound his way down to the ground level of the building and exited it through an alley door. Adrian clung to the shadows with ease and crept after the vampire. The streets of the city were mostly empty, save for a few vagrants wandering from one hangout spot to another. The drunkards gave Helgrathin and Vincent a wide berth, preferring not to tangle with the dangerous looking men. They made their way through the city without incident and eventually came to a squat building with only a single door and devoid of windows. In front of the door stood a large man covered in tribal tattoos. He was bald and had eyes similar to those of a goat. Adrian recognized him as a demon. The tattoos were those of a particular region of Hell known for its strong warriors and powerful witches. This region was far removed from the kingdom itself, lying outside the borders of the king’s reign. The assassin sensed more than just physical might in this large demon’s frame, and he knew this man would be dangerous to face alone in a fair fight. Luckily, the assassin excelled in fighting dirty. Helgrathin stopped in front of the big demon and whispered something in a language Adrian did not understand. He tried to memorize the words, but he was unable to pronounce them correctly without practice. He cursed himself for not paying attention in the various language studies and linguistics classes he went through in his youth. The big demon stepped aside and allowed Helgrathin and Vincent to go through the door.
Adrian crept around the building and sidled along the front to slip in behind the demon. Silently, he tried the door handle but found it locked. As if sensing the assassin’s presence, the demon turned his head to look around. Adrian kept himself out of his field of vision and drew a knife from his belt. With a swift and precise strike, Adrian buried the blade in the base of the demon’s skull, angling the knife to slice through his brainstem. The demon fell to the concrete sidewalk in a lifeless heap. The assassin jerked his knife free and wiped the blood and brain matter off before putting it away. He searched the demon’s body, searching for a key, but came up empty. A silent curse escaped Adrian’s lips as he realized the demon was likely the key himself. If he was warded to unlock the door once he had given his permission to enter, then it stood to reason that the door would remain locked upon his death. Adrian turned back to the door and tried the handle again, only to reaffirm his fear. It remained locked. On a hunch, he removed the glove covering his skeletal arm and placed it on the door. The magic keeping it locked was strong, but he could sense its intricate workings. He stretched out with his senses and concentrated on the spell work, unraveling it like a tapestry. The locking spell fell apart and was consumed by his skeletal arm. With the magic taken away, the door was unlocked, and Adrian looked down at his hand with mild surprise in his eyes.
“Huh… I’m glad that worked,” he said to himself. “I wasn’t sure it would. Might have to experiment with that some more later.” He opened the door and walked through the entry, coming into a modest coat room. There was another door across from the entryway and Adrian continued through it. There, he found himself faced with two more large tattooed demons guarding a long hallway with a single door at the end of it. They stared at him expectantly, waiting for a password.
“Hello,” Adrian greeted, at a loss for what to say. “I’m here to see the boss.”
The demons looked at each other, obviously not believing the assassin’s words. They each took a menacing step toward Adrian, who had to force himself not to draw his sword.
“We know who you are,” one of the demons said.
Adrian knew that if he still had blood flow, all of the color would have drained from his face. “Yes,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I’m here to see the boss.”
“Stop lying,” the other demon growled.
“”We know you’re the prince of Hell,” the first demon stated.
Adrian’s heart would have sunk, if he still had one. “You haven’t heard, then,” he said. “My father is dead. I’m the new
king.”
This time, the demons looked at each other nervously. “What business do you have here?” the first one asked.
“To tell you the truth,” Adrian said grimly, “I’m hunting someone. If you know who I am, then you know what I do. So, it’s up to you two whether you want to stand in my way or not.”
The second demon began to step forward, renewed confidence in his eyes, but the first demon grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “Stand aside,” he said. “Once he goes on the hunt, his prey dies, and woe unto them who get in his way.” The second demon glared at his companion, then at Adrian, but stepped to one side, allowing the assassin to pass.
“You men may want to make it look like you didn’t just roll over for me,” Adrian suggested. “I imagine your employer might not look too kindly on you letting an enemy past.”
The first demon nodded and approached the other one, who was beginning to look worried. The assassin walked down the hall to the sounds of one demon mercilessly beating the other unconscious. When he reached the door, he drew his sword and took a deep, steadying breath. It was likely that he would have to kill every person in the building just to get to Helgrathin and rescue his brother. While he was more than willing to do so, he was certain that it would cause more trouble than it was probably worth. Adrian grasped the doorknob and gave it a turn. The door opened and swung inward on silent hinges. Inside was a large bar filled with blaring, thumping music and people of all sorts. Vampires mingled with werewolves, while humans and demons danced and drank together. A few fairies flitted about in haphazard, drunken paths, occasionally bumping into one another. There were two minotaurs stationed in different corners, able to see everything that went on. Adrian figured they were the bouncers. A few dragons sat at one table, enjoying a drink amongst themselves in human form, letting the occasional patch of scales or a horn to slip past their attention. A cyclops was serving drinks, and a forest nymph and a river nymph were dancing seductively at either end of the bar. Two angels sat at the bar, chatting with a pair of gorgons. Sprinkled throughout the gathering were other creatures of legend, including sirens, harpies, goblins, leprechauns, centaurs, and satyrs. Adrian sent his sword into its pocket dimension and walked in, thankfully unnoticed by nearly every patron. The minotaurs took note of him, but after seeing him send his sword away, they resumed a calm but vigilant pose. Upon a better inspection, Adrian did not see his brother or Helgrathin anywhere. He surmised that there must be a VIP area somewhere else. He sat at the bar and ordered a drink, trying to keep up the appearance of a patron, realizing a little too late that he still wore his armor from Hell. It was an obvious indicator of where he was from and his status there.
The Assassin and the Knight Page 33