“She was innocent,” Adrian finally admitted without looking at Vincent. His jaw clenched and his eyes stared hard at the bar across the street. “She was framed by Helgrathin, the vampire I’m hunting. He posed as an advisor and kept himself disguised for longer than anyone knows.” He turned to face his brother, leaning on the window sill. “I killed her without knowing all the facts. I made a mistake, and for that I’m sorry. I took away the woman you loved, and you killed me for it. I deserve so much worse than death for what I did to you, little brother.”
With the pain still gnawing at the angel, he was saddened to hear that she died for nothing, but glad to know that she was innocent. He put a hand on Adrian’s shoulder and said, “I forgive you, brother. While what you did still hurts, I know that you did what you thought you must. Now, let’s put that behind us and focus on the mission.”
Adrian nodded, hiding the tears that threatened to fill his eyes. His brother was a better man than he could ever hope to be, and that simple fact filled the assassin’s heart with pride. He returned his focus to the bar and let out a silent, happy sigh.
Hours passed, during which Adrian and Vincent chatted and kept constant vigil over the bar. It was just like old times when they would go on missions together. Eventually, the conversation went to their parents.
“How are mother and father doing, anyway?” Vincent asked. He noticed Adrian’s jaw clench again at the question.
After a long pause, Adrian finally answered. “Mother is doing as well as can be expected, what with another civil war starting. She’s safe, though. As long as she stays in the tower and out of Laarsa, she can be kept safe enough.”
“So, she’s still on the throne?” Vincent guessed softly. Adrian cast him a sidelong glance with one eyebrow raised.
“No,” came the assassin’s curt response.
“Then, you’re the new king?” Vincent said as much as asked.
This time, Adrian faced him squarely. “I am.” A look of dread filled his eyes as he stared at his brother.
“Adrian, I know what happened,” Vincent admitted. “I know I killed your father. I couldn’t stop myself. I was trapped in my own mind and I couldn’t stop myself from doing it.”
“Stop.”
“I couldn’t even stop myself from killing your lieutenant,” Vincent continued.
“Vincent, stop.”
“I’m so sorry! I wish I could have been stronger. I would have stopped it all, and they’d all be alright.”
Adrian clamped his hand over his brother’s mouth and glared at him through tear filled eyes. “I said stop talking. If you ever repeat a word of this to anyone, I will knock you out and use you for target practice. If you tell our mother any of this, I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you. One of my greatest fears was losing my brother. That happened. Then I witnessed my father’s death after the fact. Another fear lived through. Next, a new fear that developed when I found out you killed our father, was that you would know what you did. I’ve now lived through some of my worst fears, all within far too short a span of time. Now, I’m realizing that my newest fear is that our mother will find out what really happened. She knows that father died in battle. She’s dealing with that loss right now. She also knows that you and I are okay. Let her have that peace. She does not need to know the details. Let it haunt you, as I’m going to let it haunt me. Just leave her out of it. Mother does not need anything else to worry about. I took the throne so she doesn’t need to worry anymore. Let her have that, at least.” He took his hand away and pointedly returned his attention back to the window. It was clear that his eyes were not focused on anything in the real world. His thoughts were raging within his head, and Vincent could see it all.
He nodded, but knew that Adrian was no longer paying any attention to him. He turned his own attention to the window and kept watch. After some time had passed, two men approached the bar. A new bouncer had replaced the one Adrian had killed, and was now greeting the newcomers in the usual gruff manner. After a short exchange, the bouncer nodded toward the door, and the two men walked in. Adrian watched with little interest, but Vincent spoke up.
“Those two are here to see the countess,” he stated.
“How do you know?” Adrian asked.
“One is a dragon, named Fafnir,” Vincent replied. “The other is a werewolf, called Fenrir.”
“Right. They were on the rooftop with you and Helgrathin, talking about seeing Bathory.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you were there,” Vincent sighed.
“I’ve been following Helgrathin for a while now. After I found out he took you from Scholomance, I had to chase after him to get you back.”
“I’m a little surprised you found Scholomance, to be honest,” Vincent laughed.
Adrian shot him a brotherly glare. “Like you would have found it as easily as I did.”
“I would have pointed it out to you on a map. You never listened in those classes. I learned more about Earth than you ever did. I can speak more languages than you, I know more of Earth’s history and legends than you, and I can tell you which cities were saved from the ocean levels rising after the ice caps melted during the war.”
“Just proves you’re smarter than me,” Adrian mumbled. “But I’m the better fighter.”
Vincent rolled his eyes and smiled. “Anyway, what’s the plan now that we know who just went into the bar?”
“We wait. They’re here to talk to Bathory, so we let them talk. Like I told her, I have no fight with the vampires now that Ibsen is dead. Whatever business the wolves and the dragons have with her does not concern us. I hope. Either way, they may bring Helgrathin out with them, or they’ll leave without him. It really doesn’t matter. That vampire is mine to kill, and he’ll have to leave sometime. The bar didn’t look like an actual home, so the patrons will leave and the place will close at some point. Everyone will go home, and we’ll be here waiting for Helgrathin to sneak out.”
“Sound plan. This could take hours. Knowing you, you’ll want to take first watch, as always, and I’ll take over when you get tired.”
“No need,” Adrian stated. “I don’t get tired anymore. Or hungry. Or anything, really… I’m probably a better assassin now, so thanks for killing me.”
Vincent gave him an odd look. “So… You’re a zombie now?”
“I’m a vampire, technically,” came the dry response.
“And you’re planning to kill the one who turned you,” Vincent reasoned.
Adrian’s face split into a self-deprecating smile. “In my anger, I may have forgotten that fact. We’ll just have to see what happens, then.”
“But, you’ll die.”
“I’ll come back. Once was odd, twice was an anomaly, three times makes a pattern. I’m guessing the universe has something in store for me. That, or I am one unlucky asshole.”
“Vampires turn into a pile of dust when they die. How do you plan to come back from that?”
“Good point. Like I said, we’ll just have to see what happens. If I die, I die.”
“Leaving Hell without a king, a mother without a son, and a brother without a brother.”
Adrian nodded. “And I wouldn’t even have to care anymore.”
“And what about Zhun?”
Adrian paused at that. “Yeah… She’ll find someone better than me.”
“What’s going on with you?” Vincent demanded. “This isn’t like you at all! Sure you have your bouts of depression and your anxieties can get to you, but you’re talking about suicide.”
“Listen, little brother. In my line of work, even the good ones die way too young. A long time ago, I accepted the fact that I would be killed before I got old. It isn’t suicide, its acceptance of the inevitable. I know it sounds bleak, but all of my affairs have been in order since I assumed command of the assassins.”
“I understand that, Adrian, but you have more than just the command of the assassins. You’re king of Hell now. You ha
ve more responsibility now.”
“How long to kings last nowadays, Vincent? Osiris reigned for thousands of years, then Hades for about as long. Then Pluto, whose reign was a lot shorter. The trend is continuing. Father was king for fifty years. How long do I have? How long will the next king have?”
“Then stop the cycle of short reigns, Adrian,” Vincent begged. “Live a long, happy life, and rule for thousands of years. Let your children become old and wise before they ever assume the throne. Live to see your grandchildren get old. Leave this vampire alone and let’s go home.”
A grim smile spread across Adrian’s face. “We can’t go home, little brother. Remember, you got banished for killing me? Even though I’m alive, you still succeeded in killing me. The other demons and devils won’t care that it didn’t stick. As soon as you step foot in Hell, there will be a target on your back and a bounty on your head.”
“I don’t care,” Vincent scoffed, and his demeanor almost reminded Adrian of himself. “If there’s a civil war in Hell, you’re going to need someone to command your army while you send your assassins to do what you all do best. Lift my banishment and put me back in command of the knights. We’ll deal with the enemy armies while you and your people kill the leaders. Just like old times.”
“Like old times,” Adrian repeated with a wistful look in his eyes. “I miss the good old days, before I kept dying and all of this stupidity with the vampires.”
Vincent clapped his brother on the shoulder and was about to say something, but Adrian suddenly perked up and stared out the window.
“There he is,” the assassin said, summoning his sword to his side. “I have to kill him, Vincent. If I’m right in my thinking, I won’t be dead for long. At most I’ll be out for a few hours. If you’re going to help me, good, if not, that’s fine too, just make sure no one messes with my body.” He stood and slipped out of the room. Within the span of a minute, Vincent saw Adrian slinking after the fearful Helgrathin as he walked down the empty street. The vampire kept looking over his shoulder, knowing the assassin was on his tail, but unable to spot him. Sighing, Vincent made for the roof of the building, and followed Helgrathin, thinking to help Adrian in case something went wrong. The night air was cool on his skin as he jumped across alleys and the occasional street as the vampire wound his way through the city. The angel made sure to keep the glow of his armor to a minimum to lessen the chance of being spotted by anyone. As far as anyone in the local populace needed to know, he was just some thrill seeker hopping from rooftop to rooftop in the night.
On the street, Adrian clung to the shadows and followed Helgrathin on a much more direct path. The assassin was in his preferred element, hunting his prey through the darkness of a city at night. Sword in hand, he crept along the pavement after the vampire and slipped from one shadow to the next, keeping well out of sight. Sometimes, Adrian would let the vampire gain a lead of several blocks, maintaining his focus on the tracking spell, and would occasionally cut across a few alleys to gain his own lead on the target. It was all a game to the master assassin, and he reveled in it. The continuous chase gave him a perceived rush of adrenaline and left a smile on his face. Eventually, the chase grew boring and predictable, and the assassin pulled ahead of the vampire and waited. Once Helgrathin came within half a block of Adrian’s position, the assassin stepped out into the pale moonlight. The vampire jumped, startled at the sudden appearance of the one who swore to kill him, but his usual haughtiness kept him from running. A confident smirk appeared on his face, but even at a distance, Adrian could feel the terror in the vampire’s shaking body. Helgrathin had practically been handed over to Adrian by Bathory. The countess had not explicitly said anything about the vampire’s eventual demise, but it was implied that she would not seek retribution for his death. He was alone, and would not be avenged. It was worse than being killed by her directly. Helgrathin had been abandoned to his fate without a second thought.
“Hello, Helgrathin,” Adrian grinned. “I told you I would find you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Helgrathin reached to his side and drew his short sword. His palms were slick with sweat, but he gripped the hilt of his sword anyway. He did well to hide his fear, but he knew that Adrian could sense it anyway. His feet slid into a readied stance, awaiting the coming fight.
“I beat you once, little princeling,” he stated. His haughty tone was tinged with creeping fear. “”I’ll beat you again.”
“Last time, I lost on purpose,” Adrian countered, calmly and slowly approaching the vampire. “Although, I’ll admit, I was not expecting you to turn me into a vampire. I’m not very happy about that.”
The admission confused Helgrathin. As far as he knew, Adrian had given his all in that fight. He had been under the assumption that the spoiled prince was overestimating his own abilities. A nagging thought crept into the vampire’s mind. He realized Adrian had lost on purpose to lure him out of hiding and expose him to the rest of Hell. It seemed the assassin and his team was smarter than Helgrathin had assumed.
Seeing the look of confusion on Helgrathin’s face, Adrian continued. “I want you to know, I hate vampires. I mean, even more than I hate werewolves, and that’s saying an awful lot. So, know that I’m going to kill you for that, on top of everything else you’ve done to my home and to my family.”
“But you’ll die,” came the expected response.
Adrian nodded. “You’re absolutely right. But you killed me before, remember? I came back. I’ll come back again. You won’t.” By now, he was only a few yards away from the vampire. He gripped his sword in one hand, and his muscles were tensed in preparation for what was to come. Outwardly, he looked completely relaxed and confident. It was his usual tactic; lull the enemy into a false sense of confidence and let them make the mistake of underestimating him. Helgrathin was visibly ready for a fight, whereas Adrian simply looked as if he was having a conversation.
After a few tense moments, Helgrathin struck. His attack came at the assassin’s midsection, a straight jab meant to rip into his intestines. Adrian exploded into motion, slapping the feeble attack to one side with his own sword, and continuing with the flow of motion to bring his weapon around to slash at Helgrathin’s throat. The attack went from Adrian’s right to his left, but it was cleanly blocked by the vampire’s short sword. Helgrathin pushed against Adrian’s sword and managed to heave the assassin away.
Adrian stepped back with the motion and came in for a stab, mimicking the vampire’s initial attack. His sword was similarly slapped aside, but he followed the momentum around and brought his weapon up and around for a downward overhead chop. Helgrathin brought his sword up to block, using his left hand to brace the blade. He nearly staggered under the weight of the blow, and decided to shift the direction of the attack to his left, exposing Adrian’s entire right side. The vampire took the opening and elbowed Adrian in the jaw, sending the assassin reeling. Slightly dazed, Adrian allowed himself to step with the motion rather than over correct and risk taking another attack. When he had his footing again, he reversed his stride and swung his sword in a wide arc for Helgrathin’s legs. The vampire made a quick two step backward, leaving his upper half leaning forward. Adrian used the awkward positioning to his advantage and doubled back on his initial swing, slashing toward Helgrathin’s face.
The vampire reacted quickly and threw his torso back, narrowly dodging the strike. He brought his weapon around for two wild swipes, forcing Adrian away. The assassin easily backpedaled away from the desperate swings and made a lightning fast slash with his own weapon. He had reach on the vampire, and he connected with his attack. The last few inches of Adrian’s blade cut a deep gash across the vampire’s chest, and he reversed his momentum and cut a matching wound into Helgrathin’s stomach. Both wounds closed within an instant, but not entirely. They closed just enough to not allow anything important to fall to the pavement. Without letting the vampire regain his footing, Adrian stabbed him through the left shoulder, s
evering tendons and muscle tissue. He ripped the blade upward and tore through the ruined joint. Helgrathin cried out in pain with each new wound and swung his short sword in an upward slash, barely catching Adrian in the hip, then swung from left to right, taking the assassin in the jaw.
Adrian’s wounds only drove him on, further fueling his anger. He brought his sword up, parallel with his body, and gripped the hilt in both hands. With a forward step, Adrian swung his sword through the air and into Helgrathin’s neck faster than the vampire could react. There was the slightest resistance as the blade met with bone, but Adrian’s strength and speed sliced through it all, severing the vampire’s head from his body. The cut was so fast that the head remained on the body for a moment before Helgrathin’s knees buckled. The jolt of the body falling to its knees caused the head to topple off and land with a dull thud onto the ground. Before the rest of the body could reach the street, it turned to ash and crumbled onto the asphalt. Shortly after the vampire had died, Adrian’s wounds were completely healed.
Adrian stood triumphantly over the body and looked up to see Vincent running toward him. He started to grin, but his smile faltered as a burning pain ripped through him. It felt as if his blood had turned to fire and was consuming him from the inside. He screamed and clutched at his stomach, thinking to reach in and tear out the pain, but it would have been no use. His entire body was wracked with unendurable agony and he fell to his knees. On all fours, he retched from the pain, but nothing came out. Long tears opened up all over his body and blackened blood seeped from the new wounds, pooling around his hands and knees. As he watched in horror, Adrian’s blood began to congeal and solidify on the ground. Within seconds that felt like an eternity, the solidified blood then turned to ash.
“Adrian!” Vincent yelled, but the assassin could not hear him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The angel stood by and watched helplessly as his brother screamed in pain and bled from every part of his body. After every diseased drop of rotten and coagulated blood left Adrian’s body, the pain finally began to subside. His screams were replaced by pained whimpers and eventually turned into ragged gasps for air. When all that remained was ash and dust, Adrian rocked backward to rest on his knees, tears streaking his face. The new wounds closed, but left jagged and angry scars in their place. Eventually, the weary assassin stood and faced his brother, breathing heavily.
The Assassin and the Knight Page 35