The Assassin and the Knight

by Rick Bonogofsky

  ‘Too late to change now,’ he thought to himself.

  ‘I think you look rather dashing,’ came a woman’s sultry voice in his head. It took every ounce of Adrian’s self-control to not let his head whip around to see who was talking to him. The intrusion into his mind left him on edge, but he did not feel the presence prying too deep. It was simply probing his surface thoughts.

  ‘Who are you, and where can I find you?’ he asked mentally.

  ‘To your right,’ the alluring voice replied. Adrian turned to his right and saw a succubus leaning on the bar and staring at him with one eyebrow cocked.

  ‘Not very often a demoness has the gift of telepathy,’ Adrian greeted, raising his glass to her.

  ‘Not very often the king of Hell comes to this establishment,’ she countered with a wink and tipped her own glass in his direction.

  ‘It’s that obvious, huh?’ The succubus rolled her eyes at him, never losing her vampish smile.

  ‘I can tell that something is gnawing at you,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘Business, unfortunately.’

  ‘Just business?’ came the seductive response. ‘Don’t you have any time for pleasure?’ Adrian could almost hear the subtle pout in her telepathic message, and he had to quell some very risqué thoughts. Some slipped through, though, and he could tell she saw them by the excited glint in her eye.

  ‘That is certainly very tempting, but I have to find someone.’ Adrian finished the thought with an image of Helgrathin’s face.

  A look of utter disappointment crossed the succubus’s face. ‘He doesn’t stay down here long,’ she offered. ‘He’s a regular and always goes upstairs to see the countess.’

  ‘You’ve been the best help all day,’ Adrian praised. ‘If you’re ever in Hell looking for a job, come to Laarsa and see me. I could use someone with your talents on my team.’

  ‘I’m already one of yours, boss,’ she stated. Adrian looked at her in mild surprise as she moved one cup of her bustier aside, exposing her breast. On the underside of the fabric was the insignia of Hell’s assassins. He nodded, and lifted his glass to her again before draining it.

  ‘Remind me to have Zhun promote you, then,’ he thought, noting to himself that he should put more effort into remembering who his subordinates were. With that, Adrian walked away from the bar and gave the room one more sweep. He spotted a door in the back corner, guarded by a pair of mean looking djinn.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” one the djinn asked threateningly as Adrian approached.

  “I’m here to see the boss,” Adrian stated firmly.

  “No one sees the boss unannounced,” the other djinn countered.

  “See,” Adrian grinned, “that’s where I disagree. I need to see the countess. More accurately, I need to see the vampire who came in to see the countess. So, I need to get in there to see him, or there’s going to be a mess on the main floor when he comes out. I’d much rather avoid that, and I imagine you would, too.”

  “No one passes,” the first djinn stated.

  Thinking quickly, Adrian tried to come up with a way to get past these guards. He put his hands behind his back stared into the first djinn’s eyes. With his hands behind his back, Adrian slipped the glove off of his right hand and flexed the fingers. He knew that djinn were beings made almost entirely of magical substance, so he hoped his idea would work. His skeletal hand came out from behind his back and grabbed the djinn’s shoulder in a vice-like grip. He felt the being’s magical energy and repeated what he did with the door outside. The djinn gave a pained gasp before his essence completely disintegrated and was absorbed into Adrian’s skeletal arm. Without pausing to marvel at the successful plan, Adrian swung around and grabbed onto the second djinn, with the same fatal result. The bar went quiet and the minotaurs stepped forward, but Adrian was through the door before anyone else could react. He placed a powerful locking spell on the door to keep it from opening from either side. A thought crossed his mind, and he decided to try it out. He put his skeletal hand on the metal door and concentrated. The energy he gathered from the two djinn and the original lock on the first door poured into this one and amplified the strength of the locking spell he had put in place. The door glowed with bright red energy that slowly faded away, leaving the trace of Adrian’s spell work nearly undetectable. Adrian smiled at his handiwork and moved on up the stairs that led into the VIP area. The music from the bar could not be heard, and in its place was soft, soothing tones made by string instruments. The lighting was far less garish, as well. The soft lavender glow was pleasant and unassuming. Adrian enjoyed the calmness of it as he walked up the stairs. At the top, he walked past two more djinn and a pair of six-tailed kitsunes in regal, flowing kimonos. The four guards gave Adrian a stern look, but they let him pass, apparently thinking the other two djinn let him through. He gave them a nod, acting as if he was supposed to be there all along, and continued on his path. He passed several lavish rooms where high ranking members of different societies ate, drank, and fornicated the night away. Adrian passed these rooms with a complete lack of interest.

  Old vampire stories were winding their way through his mind at this point, and he was beginning to put together who exactly was in charge in this place. Countess Elizabeth Bathory was one of the most notorious figures in human history, having murdered countless victims and bathing in the blood of virgins to retain her youthful look. She was considered one of the most dangerous vampires on Earth, but had also gained a reputation for treating her favorites like royalty over the last few centuries. Her connections spread further than just the criminal underworld. She had her hands in political affairs worldwide, and, as far as Adrian had heard, was an accomplished assassin in her own right. According to rumors and gossip he had heard during his travels over the years, she was supposedly the vampire who was next in line to take over for Ibsen himself. Adrian did not like the idea of her being in charge of the vampires, but it was said that she had no interest in fighting Ibsen’s battles. Adrian saw an opportunity for peace, but only if Bathory played nice. Which he doubted. A lot.

  Eventually, Adrian came to an archway that was draped with dark purple cloth and adorned with thin silver chains. It led into a fairly large room littered with oversized cushions and a dozen or so naked bodies of various species. They were all engaged in differing levels of debauchery, but Adrian paid them very little attention. His focus was on the woman at the far end of the room, reclined on a giant red cushion, with Helgrathin sitting at her side and Vincent standing like a puppet behind them. Vincent’s eyes seemed to come to life as he saw Adrian enter, while Helgrathin jumped to his feet in surprise, drawing a short sword.

  “Sit,” the woman on the cushion commanded with a bored lilt to her voice. Helgrathin sat as if pushed down, and the woman leveled an amused look on the assassin. “Welcome to my lair,” she said casually. “Who are you?”

  Adrian’s fingers twitched, aching to grip his sword and attack, but he kept calm. “My name is Adrian, son of Dante and king of Hell. I’m here to kill your friend there, and bring my brother home. I have no fight with you.”

  “Hello, Adrian,” the woman greeted, bowing her head. “I am Elizabeth Bathory, countess of the vampires, and their new leader. I would like to ask you to not kill my favorite plaything. As for your brother, I do not think I can facilitate that.”

  “My brother is the angel behind you,” Adrian muttered. “And I’m killing Helgrathin whether you like it or not.”

  Bathory raised a confused eyebrow. “But, he’s an angel, and you’re a demon,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “We have different fathers,” Adrian admitted.

  Bathory nodded, understanding. “Mother met your father, then met his? It doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you do with the angel. I still want my boy toy around. He’s ever so useful.”

  “He started two civil wars in Hell,” Adrian countered. “I’m going to kill him. Whether he do
es that here and on his feet, or on his back and in his sleep does not matter much to me. I found him here, I can find him again if I have to. If you’d rather not have a mess in this room, I can take him elsewhere to gut him.”

  “I feel I should have a say in this,” Helgrathin said.

  “You really don’t, dear,” Bathory said, giving the other vampire a sharp look. She looked back to Adrian. “Perhaps we can make a deal of some sort?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Adrian folded his arms over his chest and glared at Bathory. “What kind of deal do you have in mind?” he asked.

  Bathory shrugged an alabaster shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. How about you just take your brother and leave. I have no use for an angel who isn’t mine of his own free will, so I don’t care about him. You can have him regardless, really, but I figure he’s a good enough bargaining chip.”

  “As good a deal as that is,” Adrian started, “you’re still going to have to sweeten the pot before I leave here.”

  “You can’t have Hel,” Bathory pouted. “He’s mine.”

  “Fine,” Adrian breathed. “Either way, he’ll have to leave here sometime. When he does, I’m going to kill him.”

  Bathory’s pout disappeared into a look of anger. “Listen here, boy,” she hissed, “I command the vampires now. Helgrathin is one of my people, and I will not just hand him over to you for your pleasure. If you attack him, you will be declaring war on our people.”

  “Our people have been at war for decades as it is!” Adrian shouted. “What difference will this declaration make? Besides, I imagine that if I were to kill you, then the vast majority of all vampires alive will be no more than a pile of dust. Are you prepared to risk the total extinction of your people? Because that is exactly what a war with Hell promises if you go down this path.”

  Bathory glowered at Adrian for a moment, then pouted again, feigning sadness. “Do you really want a genocide on your conscience?”

  “To protect my home, I would personally slaughter every one of your people before allowing you to die a slow, agonizing death. Think about it, Countess. With Hell as an enemy, your people would be doomed. With my kingdom as an ally, you would be safe. Just give me Helgrathin.”

  Taken aback by the sudden offer of alliance, Bathory was silent. She was sincerely baffled by the notion of allying with her ancient enemy. “Go on,” she said.

  “No,” Adrian stated. “Because I know you won’t accept peace between our people, not if he’s your favorite. It seems to me that you could have been the one to send him to Hell to disrupt the peace in my home. I know that he had a hand in starting the war that came to Earth. I know he started the civil war that split my people and nearly brought my family’s dynasty to ruin. And I know that he sowed the seeds of this new civil war that is beginning in Hell as we speak. He’s going to die no matter what you say here today. If you decide to go along with the idea of war, know that it was you who declared war on me, and I’m just a soldier keeping my home safe. If you go to war with me, know that the next time I see you, you die, and your empire will crumble in that instant. I am not one to be taken lightly, and I will defend my people from any threat that rears its head. The choice is yours.”

  Bathory sat perfectly still, but Adrian could hear the racing of her heartbeat. He could smell the fear radiating from her body, mingled with perfume and sweat. Her eyes remained trained on his, but her pupils were dilated. She was deciding between fight or flight. Finally, she let out her held breath and stood from her cushion. Without taking her eyes off of Adrian, she reached back and pulled Vincent forward, pushing him toward the assassin. As she sat back down, she let her eyes drift to a terrified Helgrathin.

  “You may not kill him in my bar,” Bathory breathed. “But if you find him on the streets, it is up to him to defend himself. What my people do, they do of their own free will. None shall be forced to follow my commands, and my reign is not protection enough from crimes committed in another kingdom.”

  Adrian put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder and looked into his brother’s eyes. Some form of life seemed to flicker behind the dead stare. “There is a silver control rod,” Adrian said. “Give it to me.”

  Bathory looked at Helgrathin, who slipped it out of a pocket of his coat. With another look and a nod toward, Bathory silently commanded him to hand it over. Helgrathin stood and slowly approached the assassin. With a careful confidence, he dropped it in Adrian’s outstretched hand. The assassin pocketed it and leveled a steely glare on the vampire. To his credit, Helgrathin returned the stare before heading back to Bathory’s side.

  “My business here is done, it seems,” Adrian stated coldly. “I’ll see you later, Helgrathin.” With that, he turned and led Vincent out of the bar. They met no resistance on the way out, likely thanks to Bathory, and found an abandoned building to camp out in across the street. Once they were settled in a room overlooking the bar, Adrian looked at his listless brother. Seeing him that way broke his heart. He looked at his gloved right hand and had an idea. If it worked, Vincent would be free of whatever damage the vampires had done. If not, they were back to square one. Either way, it was worth a shot. Adrian stood and approached his brother, removing the glove from his skeletal hand. He placed it on Vincent’s head and concentrated, feeling for the magical traces of the vampires’ spell work. At first, he found nothing, but eventually, he found the barest traces of magic hidden deep within Vincent’s mind. It was a tiny pinprick of energy cleverly masked by the rest of the angel’s electrical impulses. Adrian pulled at it and it slowly unraveled, much like a miniscule ball of string. The energy flowed into the assassin’s bones and left Vincent’s mind clear of the vampires’ spell. Once he was confident that he had pulled all of the spell work out of his brother, Adrian took a step backward and let out a long sigh. He lifted a plate from the back of the angel’s armor and pulled the long, thin rod from his spine. It slid out without much effort and Vincent began to slump over the further it went.

  Just as the tip of the rod slipped free, Vincent jumped up and faced Adrian with wide eyes. “Adrian!” he exclaimed, a look of shock and joy spreading across his face. “You’re alive!” He stepped forward to give his brother a hug, but stopped when he saw the skeletal arm peeking from beneath the assassin’s armor.

  Reflexively, Adrian turned his body to hide the appendage and offered a halfhearted shrug. “It’s a strange story,” he said quietly with a wince. “We can go into it later.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulder with his left hand and pulled him into a strong, one armed embrace.

  “I thought I killed you,” Vincent said into Adrian’s shoulder.

  Adrian patted Vincent’s head. “You did, little brother. You most certainly did.”

  Vincent pulled away with tears in his eyes. There was an odd mix of joy and sorrow in his tear filled eyes. “I’m so sorry, Adrian,” he choked. “I’m so glad you’re alive! But… How? My sword is made of metal from Heaven. How are you alive?”

  “I really don’t know,” Adrian shrugged. “Turns out I don’t stay dead for very long. You killed me, then my own magic killed me, then a damn vampire killed me. Granted, that last one was part of a plan to expose the bastard, but I wasn’t banking on him turning me into one of his kind.”

  Vincent absorbed it all much more quickly than Adrian anticipated, and said, “How are you a vampire? Demons are immune to their venom.”

  Again, Adrian shrugged. “Apparently, after coming back from my first death, I no longer registered as a demon. The computer in my training room did a very thorough scan. Even my own demonic magic tried to consume me.”

  The angel nodded, accepting his brother’s words as truth, but failed to understand any of it. “How’s home?” he asked at length.

  “Eh… it’s Hell,” Adrian said flippantly. Vincent saw through the facade, as he always had, and saw the worry in Adrian’s eyes.

  “That good, huh?” he said.

  Again, Adrian shrugged.

  “So w
hat’s the plan, then?”

  Adrian shook his head, moving toward the window overlooking the bar across the street. “My first priority is to kill the one responsible for everything that’s happened to Hell in the last few centuries. I found the one who convinced Damien to go to war with Earth, started the civil war while you were a child, stole from our caches of angel weapons, and started another civil war just a few days ago.”

  Vincent moved to stand next to Adrian at the window. The assassin’s face was a mask of determination, keeping the worry for home and the fear of failure well hidden. The angel looked out the window, following his brother’s line of sight. Some patrons wandered out, but none seemed to be the one Adrian was looking for. He had accompanied Adrian on countless missions before, and he was glad to be a part of this one after his time under vampire control. It brought back fond memories of when they were younger. After a long silence, he asked, “If he’s responsible for the problems we had with the weapon caches, I take it Anna was his accomplice?” The question hung in the air between them for a long time before Adrian decided to answer. Even then, the assassin took some time to carefully choose his words.