“Fine!” he snapped, panting harshly. “I’m a skinwalker! And before you think there is some grand conspiracy, no one knew. That was the whole damned point! I hid by placing myself—and my tomahawks—within the Griffin family. They wanted a son; I needed a safe haven.”
I studied him pensively, unable to discern whether he was telling the truth. “The witches never mentioned anything about wanting a skinwalker. They just wanted the shaman and the tomahawks,” I said, thinking out loud. “Something involving the Black Sabbath.”
He nodded stiffly. “The tomahawks make the skinwalker,” he hissed. “Which is why I hid them. I picked up the shaman powers long ago. But I’m not here to write an autobiography.”
I blinked at him, having about a hundred new questions, but he was right. Neither of us had time for that right now. “Fine. So, the witches may or may not already know that you’re also a skinwalker, but they definitely know the significance of the tomahawks—either way, they’ll kill you to get them.” He nodded in frustration. “Any idea why?”
He stared at me for a long moment, debating his answer. “The most obvious guess would be so that they can make a skinwalker of their own. Which would explain the Black Sabbath. It’s a power ritual for them.”
I raised an eyebrow. “They can do that?”
“With the tomahawks in their possession and me dead, yes.”
I frowned. “I’m going to say this with all due respect, Nosh, but that means it’s an incredibly stupid idea for you to hold onto the tomahawks. You’re giving them everything they need.”
He flung his hands up. “Some dumb idiot decided to be nosy and point them out,” he muttered, glaring at me. “Maybe it would be a good idea to hide them. Maybe even keep their existence a secret,” he said, deadpan. I could practically taste his sarcasm.
I waved a hand, trying to think of a beneficial solution. “Fine. We’re both at fault.”
Nosh sighed tiredly, pointing a finger up at the ceiling. “Trust works both ways. I told you my secret, so how about you tell me yours? What the hell are you doing with a laboratory inside the Statue of Liberty? It looks like a hospital.”
I glanced over at him. “Why didn’t you just change your appearance and find out for yourself?” I asked, genuinely curious.
He narrowed his eyes. “For the same reason you don’t drink the blood of every person you see. Just because I have this curse doesn’t mean I have to use it for every little thing. It feels nice to have people see me as a man rather than a monster.”
I grunted, understanding him completely. I gestured dismissively at the ceiling, “I’m raising an undead army of vampires to take on Dracula. I’m transporting my old castle here tomorrow because he’s hiding inside it,” I said absently, still thinking about Nosh’s tomahawks. I couldn’t risk the witches making another attempt at him—and certainly not here. I needed a distraction.
“WHAT?!” he demanded.
An idea hit me and I grinned, clapping my hands together. “The witches would need both of your tomahawks, right?” I asked him excitedly. He nodded, still looking pale after hearing of my own plan against Dracula. “So, give me one of them.”
He tensed, suddenly leery. “Why? What are you going to do with it?”
“Nothing!” I chuckled. “But the witches are hunting me too, now. If I see any, I’m going to whip it out and show them. That should help draw their attention away from you and Isabella—since now they know she’s the way to get to you.”
He considered my words in silence for a good ten seconds. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flint arrowhead, hefting it in his palm a few times.
“That,” I said, frowning at it, “is not a tomahawk.”
Nosh grunted, slamming it into my palm as he whispered a strange word. He looked up at me with an uneasy frown. “Not sure if you can make it work. Try imagining a hatchet—gah!”
A crackling crimson tomahawk flared to life in my grip, almost slicing his stomach open before he managed to leap back a step. “Sorry!” I said, but I couldn’t hide my proud grin. “This is way better than yours,” I said, referring to the cool blue color I’d seen when he’d held it.
He narrowed his eyes, folding his arms. “Yeah, well, that’s your opinion, isn’t it?” he said, obviously disagreeing. “Just keep the flint in your pocket. You can’t break it or lose it, so don’t be afraid to have some fun with it. I bonded it to you, so even if you drop it you can always summon it back to your pocket with a thought.” He held up a finger of warning. “And I can summon it back to me with a thought.”
I nodded, even though he’d just threatened to take my new toy away. “Okay.” I imagined it disappearing and it was suddenly gone. The flint was also inside my pocket rather than my palm.
“What can I do to help with your insane plan?” he asked, eyeing the display case with a concerned look. “You’re not going to break the statue, are you? It’s very important to a lot of people.”
I hesitated long enough to make him frown. “We should be fine,” I said, waving my hand reassuringly. “But I’m going to need you and Isabella to remain here where it’s safe. If the witches had a way to nullify a werewolf’s abilities, I imagine they have something cooked up for a shaman—possibly even a skinwalker. And they already despise Isabella. There will be plenty of monsters here to keep you safe, but Mr. Hyde will be your new bodyguard. Do you know him?”
Nosh shook his head with a frown. “Sounds familiar for some reason, though…”
“Oh, he’s great. Knows how to take a beating, though he doesn’t look like much.”
Nosh nodded with a regretful sigh. “That’s it? Just hide here?” he asked, frowning in disappointment.
“Just through tomorrow night. Then I’ll be free to help you come up with a permanent solution. The arrival of Dracula and his vampires will give the Cauldron plenty more important things to worry about. Might even solve your problem for you.”
“Fine.”
“I need to head off to a meeting,” I told him, “but I’ll let Dr. Stein know you want to help. She knows what you are, but I haven’t told anyone else, and I don’t intend to. I’m extending some trust in that regard, just like you did with the tomahawk.”
He nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Sorin.”
“But I would advise you to tell Isabella before she hears it from someone else. No matter how bad the news, it’s always better that way.”
He grimaced. “I’ll think on it, but I know what you mean.”
I extended my hand. Neither one of us was completely happy, which meant it had been a true compromise. I could live with that—for now. He probably felt the same. Having heard the very beginning of his story, I felt much better, even though I knew there were plenty of gaps to fill in.
I hadn’t told him my life story either.
He traded grips with me, and we shook hands. I turned around to make my way back upstairs, hoping to find Renfield because I needed a driver. Victoria already knew about my intended meeting with the Nephilim, but not that I’d solidified it for tonight. She would want to come, as would Natalie, but the Nephilim wanted it private.
“Hey, Sorin!” Nosh called out. I turned to look at him. “You sure you don’t need backup?”
I shrugged. “Probably, but you’ve got a pretty girl to kiss. That’s way more important.”
He watched me with a thoughtful frown before slowly lifting his hand to wave goodbye. I returned the gesture with a faint smile, not entirely sure how I felt about our talk.
I spotted Renfield making his way towards the elevator and rushed to catch up to him. He was carrying a cardboard box that held rolls of thick gray tape, rolls of opaque plastic wrap, several strange metal tools, a hammer, a candle that said Christmas Morning, and an avocado. I stared at the box for a moment. “Busy?” I asked, peeling my eyes away from his bizarre collection.
“Of course not, Master Ambrogio. I was just heading back to the city to run an errand, but it can wait.”<
br />
“No. That’s perfect. I need a ride back as well. Do you have a car available?”
He smiled eagerly, jingling a pair of keys. “Excellent.” The elevator door opened, and I saw Nosh still watching me with a slight frown, looking deeply hurt that I had asked for Renfield’s help but not his.
The doors closed and we began to descend. I told Renfield why I was heading back, and he almost dropped his box.
22
I walked through the vast open tunnel of the underground, retracing my steps towards the rendezvous point that Renfield had helped me find a week ago. I’d wanted to have a quick escape route in the event that my discussion with the Nephilim went…Biblical.
All in all, it was a straight shot—maybe a five-minute walk from the alley where Renfield had parked to where the Nephilim waited for me. Renfield had even made me leave the water drain open so that his car’s headlights could illuminate the tunnel’s entrance.
I’d quizzed Renfield about Nephilim as he drove one of our recently purchased boats back to the mainland. He hadn’t known much more than me: they were the offspring of angels and humans; they were known as giants—although Renfield had never personally confirmed this—and they were merciless foes.
When I’d told him what I intended with them, he had almost rammed the boat into the dock. He had quickly recovered from his near crash and successfully managed to dock the boat before leading me to his vehicle with his box held in his arms. I had frowned as he unlocked the car, because the vehicle was bouncing up and down and I heard muffled screaming coming from the trunk.
Renfield had then turned to me with a thoughtful look on his face. “Would you, by any chance, be needing two warm bodies? Gabriel caught a pair of Dracula’s vampires lurking in the underground.”
The muffled screaming continued from the trunk, the vampire prisoners hearing our voices just outside. “That all depends on how my talk goes, and how many there are.”
“How fortuitous,” he had murmured, opening the rear door to set his box down in the backseat. He then straightened, holding the avocado in his palm with a pleased smile as he closed the door. “I guess I can eat the avocado, then.”
I had stared at him, and then the avocado with a leery frown. “Renfield, what did you originally intend to do with the avocado?”
He had grinned wolfishly, climbing into the driver’s seat and motioning for me to get in. “It’s something you truly need to see to believe,” he chuckled, putting the vehicle into drive and exiting the parking lot. “I’ll show you sometime. Gabriel beat these two morons silly and then slapped some of Hugo’s nullification cuffs on them before calling me. Figured I would have a little fun in our downtime, but your plan is much more rewarding. And now I can enjoy my avocado another way.”
I didn’t think I would ever eat an avocado again but having the nullification cuffs on hand could end up being incredibly helpful, depending on how my meeting went. The cuffs worked on the same principle as Nero’s collar. Put them on and your powers were suddenly muted. We often used them on new vampires until we confirmed they had control of their bloodlust, which was probably why Gabriel had them on hand when he found the spying vampires.
But listening to them screaming and thumping around in the trunk as we drove to our destination had been rather distracting. At least to me. Renfield hadn’t seemed to even notice.
Once we arrived, Renfield wasn’t pleased about me making him wait in the car with the crying vampires, or the fact I’d told him to call Victoria and break the news about my meeting and its contingency on me coming alone, but Renfield always obeyed. Even when it put a noose around his neck. I would meet them back at the museum where I intended to rest for the day. He had handed me a new disposable phone so I could call him the moment my meeting concluded. Because with the meeting so close to sunrise, we were running against the clock. I was entirely sure that he would provide my number to Victoria in the event that his life was in imminent danger from her wrath.
I’d turned it on silent mode.
I had also made him promise to give Dr. Stein an immediate call—after I got out of the car, thank you very much—to alleviate her concerns for Nosh’s medical condition, and to inform her that I agreed with her suggestion to hire Hyde to guard both Nosh and Isabella for the next three days.
Obviously, Renfield didn’t understand the true context of my message—which meant that he would also be keeping a close eye on Nosh over the next few days, whether I wanted him to or not.
Which had been my intention—a third, silent bodyguard to keep Nosh honest.
While I had been speaking to everyone at the statue, Renfield had been working at calming Stevie down over the Natalie situation. The werewolf had ultimately agreed to shelve it but had told Renfield that I would owe him a small favor. I hadn’t liked the sound of that, but I also hadn’t agreed to any such thing.
All that mattered was that I would have werewolf assistance tomorrow night, which would be necessary if the witches, or more of Dracula’s vampires, tried anything.
I strode down the tunnel, reaching out with my senses for any sign of ambush or betrayal. I had no reason to suspect such a thing, but I had no reason not to either. This was a gamble, but for what I had planned tomorrow, I would need allies.
As many as I could get.
The tunnel opened up as I walked further from Renfield’s headlights, widening so that three subway trains could have fit side-by-side, making it feel like an abandoned warehouse. On my left, I spotted metal rungs that had been hammered into the wall, climbing up to reveal manhole covers in the ceiling above. The ground was covered in a shallow film of water, and I was careful where I stepped, thankful that I didn’t have to walk through raw sewage. It still smelled terrible, but at least the smell of rot wasn’t spiced with the perfume of human excrement.
I soon came upon the arched opening of an adjacent tunnel and I paused, taking a steadying breath. I had no idea what Nephilim were capable of, or if they simply intended to murder me the moment they set eyes upon me.
All I could hope for was that they had agreed to Isabella’s request in good faith, and that I didn’t do anything to overly offend them. They already knew I was a monster. I needed to show them that I was a man, and that I wanted what was best for this city—and the world.
I cocked my head as I sensed a steady hum of power in the air—something very old. They were already here.
I dangled Isabella’s crucifix from one hand and held out my other palm so they could see the branded crucifix on my flesh. Then I stepped into the new tunnel, ready for anything.
Two orbs of cool blue light pierced the darkness, hanging from each wall of the tunnel.
Two statues at least twice as tall as me occupied the center of the tunnel, seemingly made from pristine white marble. One was a true beast of a man and the other was a thin, lithe woman with a body shaped like an hourglass, easily half his width and bulk. The pair were unashamedly naked yet also regal, like warrior angels without wings. They stood with their shoulders almost touching, yet angled slightly apart from each other, and their grim, stoic countenances promised death to their foes. They looked so realistic that I doubted they were statues at all. Especially since no one else occupied the tunnel, and the ancient power I had felt in the air was emanating directly from their chests.
I planted my feet and held my arms to my sides, facing them squarely as I spoke. “My name is Sorin Ambrogio, and I have come to speak with the Nephilim of Central Park.”
The statues suddenly moved as fluidly as real flesh, and even their hair shifted and bounced as if it was as real as mine—despite maintaining the look of polished marble. They turned to face me, mirroring my posture, and their eyes blazed with blue fire as the orbs on the wall winked out of existence.
I stood steady under the intensity of their scrutiny, forcing myself to look directly into the fire of their eyes. The power I had sensed earlier had doubled the moment they moved, and I felt my pulse rapidly incr
ease as my survival instincts screamed for me to flee. I denied my instincts, feeling strangely at peace.
I dipped my chin to the woman and then the large man with the utmost respect, careful not to gawk at their nudity—especially the woman’s flattering curves. “Thank you for meeting with me, Nephilim.”
The pair of Nephilim continued to stare at me. “Speak your need, Sorin Ambrogio. We will pass judgment,” the man said.
I kept my face utterly calm at his words. “There will be no judgment upon me, Nephilim. I did not come here to seek your approval. I came here to befriend a potential ally. We share a common enemy, one whom I wish to eradicate. Dracula.”
The woman’s lips twitched in amusement at my dismissal of her compatriot’s judgment. The man narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. Finally, he nodded. “Isabella claimed that you needed us to grant you a section of Central Park. Is this true?”
“I do not need a section of Central Park. I believe I will need all of it. I could have taken it at any point in the last few weeks, but I chose to honor your prior claim on the consecrated land. Because following my decision, the land will become cursed. With your partnership, however, I believe the land may be saved. That it’s very consecration may be our best weapon.”
The pair of Nephilim giants clenched their fists with a resounding crack, an instinctive response to my words. I stood firm.
“You dare much, vampire,” the man said in a low, threatening tone.
“My fellow Nephilim is considering smiting you where you stand,” the woman said.
The man nodded stiffly, pursing his lips. “It is more than a consideration. It is a foregone conclusion.”
And then he began to advance, storming towards me with the inevitability of an avalanche.
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