Devil's Cry

by Shayne Silvers

  In that regard, I had so far turned close to two hundred vampires, keeping them largely apart from one another in the beginning, letting Gabriel and a handful of others he trusted oversee their changes. To make sure they handled it without turning into mindless monsters.

  I’d only suffered six vampires that required immediate execution, which was rather impressive. To give a man the power of a god and then hope that he didn’t instantly abuse that power the moment he killed his first victim…that wasn’t an easy thing to predict.

  On a more positive note, the city’s crime rate had dropped dramatically due to my expanding army. Two hundred vampires meant two hundred victims to finalize their transition to full vampire—and I’d only let them choose their first kill from known criminals. The type of men who walked out of jail hours after they were arrested.

  We became the new system of justice in New York City—making it preferable for criminals to remain locked up rather than be released back onto the streets where my hungry vampires awaited them.

  Even though it hadn’t been openly known they were being consumed by vampires, the criminals knew deep in their hearts that a new king silently ruled the streets—and that he had zero tolerance for hardened criminals.

  Even if no one ever saw him or his soldiers, they all knew he was there.

  The Devil now walked the streets of New York City, and he was making it a safer place.

  And now I was about to shatter that safety by bringing Dracula and his ilk here.

  I sighed tiredly, hoping my passion wasn’t overruling my reason. That my hunger for vengeance wouldn’t result in more harm than necessary. There would be innocent casualties that I would have to carry on my shoulders—but I was sure that number would be smaller than what Dracula desired.

  Nero glanced over at me, made uncomfortable by my grim silence.

  Just then, a muted but thunderous explosion boomed in the distance, causing Nero to swerve and cry out. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded, frantically checking his mirrors for the source of the sound.

  Must be nice, mirrors.

  “Williamsburg Bridge,” I said. “Forgot to tell you.”

  He slowly turned to stare at me with a horrified look on his face. “You just blew up the Williamsburg Bridge?” he croaked. “Why?”

  I gestured vaguely. “Not the bridge. Just a large boat near the bridge. I had Aristos put a bunch of the dead criminals that my newest vampires consumed on the boat. They’re wearing life jackets, so they float,” I explained with a sinister grin.

  Nero looked appalled; his hand was even trembling on the steering wheel. “How many is a bunch?”

  “Fifty. The police will be very busy tonight saving the dead bodies. Then they are going to have a very strange couple of days when they begin to discover that the dead bodies are all the missing persons—criminals—they’ve been searching for over the past few weeks. And then they have to puzzle out how they all managed to take a ride on the same unlucky boat at the same time.” I chuckled darkly. “The Mayor will look like a fool—enough of one to lose his reelection campaign in a few months. It wouldn’t have had to happen this way if he had just approved the fifty-thousand-dollar grant for my new charity, Kassandra’s Tears.”

  Nero slowly turned to stare at me, shaking his head in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “What fucking grant? You’ve got millions stashed away. Who cares about fifty-thousand-dollars?” he demanded, his eyes dancing wildly.

  I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “Orphans, Nero. What kind of monster says no to orphans?” I grunted, folding my arms. “I gave him fifty headaches for rejecting fifty-thousand-dollars. At least I can rest peacefully knowing that he’ll never forget the number fifty again. That’s enough for me. Fucking monster,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Anyway, that was just an extra benefit to my plan. Short answer—I needed the police busy.” I hadn’t told anyone about my intent to ridicule the mayor with the boat explosion. Other than Renfield, anyway. He’d wholeheartedly agreed, of course. He’d come up with the lifejacket suggestion.

  “Remind me never to accidentally spill your coffee or anything, you fucking sociopath. You might take it out on the random stranger who sold me my shoes!”

  I shrugged. “I’d consider it. If I thought it would teach you not to spill my coffee.” I thought about it. “And if the random stranger deserved it,” I added.

  He muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

  The sound of emergency service sirens soon filled the air and I smiled. “And it worked,” I said, nodding. “Now the boat police will be too busy to bother with anything strange happening on Liberty Island.”

  “The boat police,” he said flatly.

  “Whatever they’re called.”

  We drove in silence for a few moments. “And what if they still come to Liberty Island?” he asked with hesitant curiosity.

  I chuckled. “I have a plan.”

  He cursed, slapping his stump on the steering wheel. “Of course you do. I don’t want to hear it. I’m still processing the first one. I won’t even ask.” Nero lost his appetite for conversation after that.

  35

  I sighed, glancing back up at the clouds as I thought about Nosh’s comment that someone or something was holding back the storm. And then there was Dr. Stein’s apprehension over the unnatural weather. Was it an Olympian or something else? The clouds did indeed look agitated. I wondered how long this mysterious storm whisperer could hold it steady—and what consequences there would be for them preventing nature from taking its course.

  Because there were consequences to magic. Balance. Stopping the storm here tonight could cause a cataclysmic storm two-hundred miles away—whether inland or out in the ocean was a flip of a coin.

  My thoughts drifted back to the sinister encounter with Selene, wondering how much I could trust her, if at all. Since I entertained every possibility, I had seriously considered that it hadn’t been Selene at all, but some other god disguised as her.

  Or maybe a skinwalker, even.

  Dismissing those improbable but not impossible theories, and instead accepting what I had seen at face value, was even more unsettling.

  Selene had seriously injured Natalie and had intended to harm Victoria—all for show, or so she said. But that wound over Natalie’s chest had been more than a show. If I hadn’t been present, her healing abilities wouldn’t have been enough to save her. But I had been present, and Selene had known that. And she knew me, inside and out. How I thought, how I reacted…

  And then there was her drastic personality shift back to the woman I had known. And her secret message. From the face that haunted me in my dreams, the face I saw when I stared up at the moon—not the semi-familiar Olympian version of Selene. I had seen the raw pain in her eyes. It had been genuine. Or an incredibly crafty illusion. Some Olympians could do that.

  And she had called me Ambrogio, my old name. The only name I had used back then.

  Ambrosia—the root word for Ambrogio—roughly translated to nectar of the gods.

  Sorin meant sun.

  But the gods had cursed me. Their nectar, so to speak, had been a poison.

  I realized I was growling, and that Nero was leaning away from me, his face pale.

  I took a calming breath and made a decision. Rather than wait for another of the Olympian bastards to curse me, I would take the fight directly to them. They would never expect it because no one was bold enough to pick a fight with them—and especially not when they were already dealing with Dracula and the Cauldron.

  Except Sorin Ambrogio was that bold. Or that clever. Or that stupid. Only time would tell.

  I was already on my way to take care of Dracula.

  Which left the witches of the Cauldron. Rather than seeing me as an ally for kicking out Dracula’s forces, they saw me as a weaker threat to eradicate. And now they also wanted to kill me for my association with Nosh and his tomahawks. And for killing a few of them.r />
  And then killing their kittens, of course.

  Particularly the one hit by the big fucking truck. That one probably boiled their potions.

  I discreetly patted my pocket, feeling the arrowhead within—one of Nosh’s magical tomahawks. The skinwalker blades. A secret weapon if I needed it. My mind continued to boil like a witch’s cauldron, evaluating the pieces on the board and how best I might manipulate them.

  Despite the very real dangers involved in my current undertakings, I hadn’t felt more alive since my days back in Europe. I was back in the game, the intrigue, the plots, and the scheming. That had always been more of a rush than blood ever was—the challenge of coming out ahead and leaving everyone else in my dust, scratching their heads as they tried to figure out what had just happened.

  It had led me to conquering most of Europe. Surely, one city wouldn’t be as difficult.

  Nero slowed as we approached a make-shift blockade of shopping carts, tents, and even a few parked cars. A veritable mob of homeless men and women stared at us with deadly glares in an attempt to enthrall us. “Keep your head down, Nero. Just to be safe.” He had already done so, even though it was highly unlikely any of them would have stood even the slightest of chances at success against the warlock—especially now that he had his collar off.

  I stuck my head out the window, letting them see who it was. They gasped in surprise, letting out a chorus of cheers. “Master Ambrogio! Sorry, sir!”

  I waved a hand, dismissing their apology. “You’re doing exactly as I ordered. Any trouble?” I asked, eyeing the shoddy blockade. If police saw that, they would absolutely investigate. Which was why my vampires were enthralling anyone who approached.

  A young slip of a girl stepped out from the crowd, shaking her head. She wore dirty jeans and an oversized coat with a jagged tear down one sleeve. Despite her muddy face, her fiery red hair and vibrant green eyes almost took my breath away. Cleaned up, she would look stunning and elegant. I hadn’t met her before, but she wouldn’t have stepped forward to speak if she hadn’t been chosen as Captain of this area, and she wouldn’t have been chosen as Captain if Gabriel hadn’t personally vouched for her.

  “Few tried, but we turned them away without a problem,” she said with a strong accent that I couldn’t place—which wasn’t surprising, given that I had no frame of reference for most accents. “Just like you asked, we’ve been giving the homeless humans we round up from the park a hundred bucks to fill in any gaps on the other streets leading to the park. Gabriel asked me to keep an eye out for anyone who might qualify for a more permanent position,” she said with a meaningful look. “I’ve got twenty names so far. The Captains are running a little contest,” she admitted with a guilty smile.

  I laughed. “That’s great.”

  “We heard the explosion a few minutes ago. Was that the boat near the Williamsburg Bridge?”

  Nero grumbled unhappily. I nodded. “By the time we’re ready to move, local authorities should all be rushing to the scene or already investigating.”

  She nodded. “I’ve seen a few cop cars racing that way.”

  Indeed, I could hear more sirens in the near distance, all heading away from Central Park.

  “I haven’t heard of any breaches, but we’ve got enthrallers at ever point of entry.” She plucked out a cell phone with a grin and then pointed at a few bicycles leaning against the blockade. “Any problems and they can call for backup, then we can ride over and plug in the gaps. Or send one of the werewolves to scare the living hell out of the humans and watch them soil themselves. Depends on their attitude, really.”

  I chuckled, nodding. “Good. Just remember that we are doing this to keep them safe. The real threat will happen once I do my part.” I glanced ahead at the park further down the road. “You won’t be able to miss it.”

  She nodded, licking her lips eagerly at thoughts of the castle to come. “Yes, sir. Lord Hugo told us the plan.” She curtsied awkwardly. “Thank you, Master Ambrogio. You might not realize it, but you’ve already changed hundreds of lives.”

  I smiled gratefully. “Together, we will change even more. What’s your name?”

  “Susanna, Master Ambrogio.”

  I smiled. “Well, Susanna. Tonight’s success depends on you holding this line. From both directions.”

  She nodded and the others cheered raucously. “We will, Master Ambrogio. You can count on us. After all, you’re giving the homeless a home,” she said, pointing towards Central Park.

  I smiled. “Indeed. Thank you, Susanna.”

  She snapped a command to a few men, and they rolled aside part of the blockade to let us pass.

  Nero continued on down 7th Avenue until we reached Central Park South, the street walling in the southernmost tip of Central Park. I saw a white van parked on the sidewalk directly in front of us, just like Hugo had told me. I pointed it out to Nero.

  “Park next to it,” I said, pointing at the van. It wasn’t like anyone was going to stop us—not with the entire area vacated. It was eerily haunting to see no cars driving on the streets. Nero seemed to feel the same way, his shoulders hitching up anxiously as he parked. We got out of the car and approached the back of the van. I stopped at the rear, glancing over at Nero and checking our surroundings. I spotted dozens of men and women wearing black clothes and holding umbrellas in their hands. Each wore a red band around their right arm, signifying they were one of Stevie’s werewolves or my vampires.

  In the event that a war soon erupted in Central Park, at least we would know our allies from our foes.

  I saw no one else in the park.

  I spotted more crowds of homeless vampires on the nearby side streets that funneled into Central Park, all of them preventing anyone from coming closer. They also wore red on their right arms—whether it was red string, a red glove, or a red strip of tape. I wasn’t sure how long they could maintain their blockades, but I hoped it would be a while. “You ready to see the Nephilim?” I asked Nero with an excited smile.

  He nodded, licking his lips.

  36

  I opened the doors and stepped back. “Come on out, Adam and Eve. The coast is clear.”

  From within the box truck, I saw the familiar flickering root system of shifting ruby light that decorated the Nephilim. Nero stared in awe. Two pairs of crimson flames danced as the Nephilim unfolded from where they had been seated on the floor. The truck creaked and groaned as they moved, apparently still weighing a significant amount despite being the same size as us.

  Nero gasped, backing up a few steps as he stared at Adam and Eve. “They’re naked, Sorin.”

  I sighed, shaking my head.

  The Nephilim ignored Nero as they peered out into the street, sweeping their fiery gazes across the massive buildings and skyscrapers surrounding us with glowing lights everywhere, and the abandoned city streets.

  They hopped out, cracking the concrete where they landed. “It’s both beautiful and terrible,” Adam said in a low rumble, still eyeing the buildings. “Their miraculous achievements lack a sense of soul. The lights try to replace the emptiness within.”

  Eve nodded sadly before slowly turning towards the park itself. She froze, sucking in a sharp breath. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, smiling brightly. “So many trees and hills. And they destroyed something like this for something like that,” she said, heartbroken as she frowned back at the buildings.

  I nodded uneasily, realizing that I was about to further destroy her vision of beauty. I was here to destroy the last hint of nature in New York City. The most expansive anyway.

  “The one-handed warlock is Nero, in case you missed him,” I said, since they had blatantly ignored him.

  They mumbled something vaguely polite, but they didn’t turn to look at him. They stood side-by-side, staring out at the park. Nero frowned, his excitement to meet the Nephilim dashed.

  “This is what we will destroy, Eve,” Adam said, sounding resigned to the sacrifice but also saddened by it.


  “To trap Dracula,” Eve reminded him, reaching out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

  Adam nodded, seeming invigorated by Eve’s touch. After a few moments of contemplative silence, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Where are we doing this?”

  I motioned for them to follow me as I walked towards the nearby entrance. I stared over the short stone wall and into the park, spotting a pair of werewolves loping beneath the tree cover, their noses high in the air as they scented for any humans they may have missed. They spotted us and skidded to an abrupt halt, tucking their ears back as they stared at the two Nephilim behind me with sudden wariness. I waved a hand at them and they relaxed—slightly—before resuming their search. I tried not to wince at the heavy thuds of the Nephilim walking behind me.

  “Wherever we spill my coffin dirt will end up being the front gate, so I want to put some distance between that spot and the street,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “I also want to preserve at least some of the park.” Eve smiled warmly, dipping her chin at me.

  As confident as I was in my decision to do this, I was cognizant of the fact that history was about to be made. From this point forward, humans would no longer be able to deny that monsters existed.

  The only justification was that I knew the humans had already been prey to Dracula’s sinister touch—they just hadn’t known about it since he worked from the shadows, hiding his vampires behind legitimate businesses while they fed, slaughtering innocent people. I glanced up at the apartment buildings and skyscrapers around me, wondering if some small child was staring out the window, smiling at all the trees, excited to play in the park tomorrow.

  The only ones playing in the park tomorrow would be monsters. Indefinitely. Until I could oust Dracula for good. Then I would find a new place to take the castle. Somewhere hidden from mankind. Or…maybe not.

  We turned to enter the park proper, passing an abandoned hot dog stand on the corner. I frowned to myself, hoping that the owner managed to get it back soon, even though I knew he probably wouldn’t.