Devil's Cry

by Shayne Silvers

  Because as soon as my castle arrived, this entire area would repel most life. Humans would subconsciously not want to live here. Not that anyone would voluntarily choose to live here anyway—not after a castle appeared out of nowhere overnight.

  It was more than that.

  The castle exuded magic that urged everyone away—at least from setting up a permanent home nearby. People could accidentally wander too close and feel the exact opposite sensation—that they desperately wanted to go inside and explore. That was the castle attracting food for the Master.

  But anyone living too close to the castle would instantly feel the urge to move, abandoning their worldly possessions without even thinking about it. There had been close to a dozen farms around my castle overseas, all abandoned, and all fully-stocked with linens, furniture, dinnerware, and even chests of meager treasures that had been left behind when the owners fled.

  I glanced up sadly, staring at the apartment buildings and hotels, imagining that small child again. Not only would he not see the park tomorrow, his parents would probably flee the neighborhood in search of a new home. Property values near the park were about to plummet, costing millions of dollars of losses.

  It was an unavoidable consequence. Because there was another requirement to moving the castle. It had to be an area where I had an already semi-established home. I couldn’t just arbitrarily pick an empty field somewhere far away from the city—not without living in that field for a few weeks. I had to genuinely exist in a place—meeting associates, sleeping, eating, laughing, loving, and crying—if I wanted to permanently move the castle there.

  Which meant New York City was my only option.

  All the surrounding buildings would be empty husks within days. Unless my plan with the Nephilim actually broke the castle—either destroying it for good or turning it from naturally evil to something naturally good—or possibly neutral.

  Nero set a hand on my shoulder, startling me. “You okay?” he asked, following my gaze up towards the sky. I realized I had stopped walking and was staring at the storming sky forming in the far distance towards Liberty Island. A slow smile crept over my cheeks, wondering if it was Nosh’s doing. I didn’t notice any lightning, but it was a stark improvement from earlier. The clouds above Central Park were thin and wispy, and seemed to be shifting towards the distant storm as if they were iron being drawn by a lodestone.

  Even though it was far away, the clouds clearly looked like a slowly rotating ring of dark gray smoke. It definitely didn’t look natural.

  I turned to Nero, a smile stretching over my face. “I think it’s working,” I said, pointing.

  The Nephilim loomed over my shoulder, staring out at the distant storm. “You’re going there?” Adam asked warily.

  I turned to look at him, nodding. “Yes. After we finish up here. As long as everything goes smoothly.” I resumed my walk, scanning the park for an ideal location.

  The trees loomed overhead, forming a tunnel of foliage that would typically mute the usual sounds of the city—not that noise was an issue tonight. The air grew sweeter and fresher as we walked, and I heard the Nephilim taking deeper, contented breaths.

  I spotted more than a dozen werewolves—both in human form and full-on werewolf form—patrolling the inner sections of the park, deep enough in to avoid being spotted from the buildings looming all around us. Not that it truly mattered anymore. I hoped they had gotten everyone out.

  I motioned one of them over as we crossed a short bridge with a sign that read Dipway Arch. The wolf loped up to us, matching my pace as he stared up at me. I had no idea if I had met him before.

  “Any trouble? Witches or vampires?” I asked.

  The wolf shook his head.

  “Is the park mostly clear?” I asked.

  The wolf hesitated before nodding.

  I sighed. “That will have to be good enough. I want you to let the rest of the pack know to clear out. In five minutes, all hell is going to break loose and anything within the park will likely be destroyed or trapped inside the castle.”

  The wolf tucked his tail between his legs, letting out a faint whine before nodding.

  “Once the castle appears, I will need all the wolves to run up and down the perimeter of Central Park, searching for openings in the castle walls to make sure Dracula’s vampires don’t pour out and flank us. I’m not sure how much—if at all—the castle has changed since I saw it last. Have Benjamin call Hugo if he has any questions. I told him my plan.”

  The wolf nodded.

  “Changed?” Nero asked. “Could the castle have grown larger?”

  I glanced at him, considering the full scope of his question. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be entirely certain.” I turned back to the wolf. “Be ready to expand the perimeter if the castle breaks out of the park’s walls. Set up some kind of alert so the others know.”

  The wolf nodded. He walked beside me in silence for a few more seconds as if making sure I had no other commands. Then he peeled away, leaving me to the business at hand.

  A few seconds later, he let out a long, hair-raising howl that made my teeth hum. Matching howls echoed his in the distance—other wolves receiving and then relaying the message in an attempt to cover all eight-hundred-forty acres of Central Park.

  I pointed past a nearby playground. “There.” No matter how ridiculous it was, I refused to destroy the playground by bringing up the castle right here—even knowing that no child would ever use it again. I could pretend that the playgrounds further into the park didn’t exist, but actively watching one destroyed right before my very eyes? No way.

  I wasn’t a heartless monster like the Mayor of New York City.

  37

  I glanced over my shoulder at Adam and Eve. They had been silent for some time. I smiled to find them holding hands. They stared back at me with hard, determined looks on their marble faces—their crimson eyes flickering with resolute steadfastness. I nodded my approval, sensing that strange trinity connecting us.

  Our purpose was one purpose—mine.

  Our bond was entirely different from the bond I shared with Natalie and Victoria. Thankfully.

  Our bond was also unique from the connection between me and my other vampires, although I couldn’t point my finger at the exact difference. It felt deeper, more like our souls had bonded rather than our blood—even though I had no soul in which to bond. Mine was with Hades in the Underworld.

  “Why don’t you two stretch your legs?” I asked with a smile, wanting to shift my thoughts away from any Olympians. “The bigger the better.”

  In response, they flashed me eager grins, cracking their necks from side-to-side as if to loosen up. Then they began to grow. I turned my attention back to the front, smiling as I listened to the crack and groan of marble behind me.

  Nero gasped. “Holy shit, Sorin! Are you seeing this?”

  “Keep walking and stop staring,” I hissed, shushing him. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my giant vampires.”

  Nero grunted. “Tell me you didn’t give each of the fucking giant vampires a pair of giant fucking blood scythes, you giant fucking psychopath!” he snapped, on the verge of panic. “Those blades are bigger than us!”

  I frowned. Blood scythes?

  I glanced back and immediately sucked in a breath to see that they had taken me at my word. They were much larger than before—at least twenty feet tall—and they each had a pair of red crystal scythes across their backs. The ruby striations across their bodies had lessened somewhat, as if it had been condensed to form their new weapons.

  For obvious reasons, I noticed Eve first, because her colossal, perfect breasts would have made even her God cry with rapture.

  In fact, if He had started His Creation process with this version of Eve and made Light second, He probably would have abandoned any later projects, forgetting all about humans and their spinning rock of water.

  I still wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that contradiction in my
life—that God had obviously created the Nephilim, or they wouldn’t be here, yet I knew for a fact that the Olympians were also very real.

  Had one created the other? Did they both exist independently? Did it really matter?

  Or were Eve’s giant breasts causing me to suffer a spiritual crisis?

  Yes. Yes, they were.

  I managed to peel my eyes away, saving my mind from further calamity. The arced blades of her red crystal scythes fanned out over each shoulder, resembling demonic crimson wings. The handles crossed at her back so that the ends of the shafts extended out below her narrow waist within easy reach in the event she wanted to chop a building in half—or two at the same time, one with each hand.

  On that note, Eve calmly unsheathed one of her blades, grinning down at it in surprise. She glanced at a nearby tree and shot me a curious look. I nodded silently, unable to speak, wondering if she thought I had given them to her.

  Nero had been right. The blades themselves had to be as long as I was tall.

  As if it weighed no more than a feather, she swung her scythe at a massive tree beside the road, slicing completely through the five-foot-thick trunk as if it were a strand of hair. The tree crashed to the ground, charred where it had been kissed by her scythe. She spun it around her wrist with a whooshing sound that hurled a blast of air my way. Then she calmly slipped it into place over her back in some invisible sheathe.

  “Tick-tock! I’ve heard of a grandfather clock, but never a Godfather Cock!” Nero hooted, pointing at the pendulum-like appendage swinging between Adam’s legs. Eve’s eyes were burning brighter as she stared at the same thing, looking as if she’d been hypnotized by it. “Good lord, man! Slap a bush over it at least. There’s a playground right there!” he shouted, pointing.

  Adam frowned. “I celebrate the body I was given. What about Eve?” he grumbled.

  Eve snapped out of her daze with a start, blinking a few times and shaking her head.

  Nero glanced back to appraise Eve with the appropriate considerations. “Eve is delightful. Don’t change a thing, doll.”

  She beamed back at him, nodding her head. “I like this little magician. He’s funny.”

  “Warlock,” Nero corrected with a sudden frown.

  “Is there a difference?” Adam asked, scratching at his chin curiously.

  “Magicians do tricks. I do real magic.” He was glaring openly at the both of them now.

  “A child’s first laugh is magic. Can you do that?” Eve asked with a hopeful smile. I coughed into my fist, trying not to laugh as I motioned for them to follow me off the sidewalk and into the grass.

  “Can you make your hand grow back?” Adam asked in an awed tone.

  “Never mind,” Nero muttered, following behind me. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  I clapped my hands, drawing their attention as I came to a halt ahead of the playground. “This will do,” I said, nodding firmly.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the silk pouch of coffin dirt I’d taken from my chambers in the museum. There was a gentle breeze in the air, and I watched the pouch sway freely back and forth as I held it up for everyone to see. I wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to work out. If it was just me, I would have sprinkled some of the dirt on the ground and then dribbled a circle of my blood around it.

  But it wasn’t just me.

  I wanted the Nephilim directly involved in my summoning, incorporating them into the very walls. I didn’t want to rely solely on our shared bond.

  I carefully untied the silk pouch and knelt down on both knees. “Kneel beside me, Adam and Eve,” I said. They did, making the very ground shake. I glanced up, realizing their heads were still a good fifteen feet above the ground. “Okay, kneel all the way down or sit beside me.” They did, making me feel like I was stuck between two cliffs.

  Nero was grinning, rolling his eyes. “Smooth. Maybe you should have waited to make them bigger until after the ritual.”

  I shot him a scowl. “I already considered that. Then I considered how quickly I would like them to be battle ready if things don’t go our way.”

  His smile faded. “Yeah. Good point.”

  I turned to the two Nephilim vampires, hefting the bag. “This is my coffin dirt. I’m going to sprinkle some and then cut my hand. I’ll let my blood drip down around the dirt—not touching it—to make a circle. When I’m finished, Adam will do the same, making a circle around my blood—without letting any of it touch my blood or the coffin dirt,” I emphasized, meeting his eyes until he nodded. “Then Eve will make a circle around Adam’s blood—again, not touching our rings of blood or the coffin dirt. Got it?” They nodded soberly, shifting on their rears on either side of me. “Then I will let my blood pour into the dirt itself and call up the castle.”

  Everyone was silent, comprehending the gravity of the situation.

  Nero snorted. “That’s it? There isn’t a spell or anything?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

  I shook my head. “No. That’s it.”

  “You’re going to move an entire fucking castle halfway across the world with some dirt and some blood, and you don’t even have to say anything?” Nero demanded, looking flustered.

  I shrugged. “Yes.”

  The Nephilim casted dubious looks at me out of the corners of their eyes. “It does sound rather…simple, Master Ambrogio,” Adam said.

  “Perhaps the funny magician has a point,” Eve added.

  Nero scowled murderously. “Warlock.”

  I narrowed my eyes at the Nephilim. “Ignore the funny magician. My magic is inside me. Magicians have to take additional steps because they are borrowing the magic from the world around them.” Nero cocked his head, his anger fading as he pondered my words. “In this, I am the magic. Don’t listen to the magician.”

  “Warlock,” Nero protested weakly.

  The Nephilim nodded soberly, taking my word as testament.

  Nero narrowed his eyes at me and finally waved a hand. “Whatever.”

  I took a deep breath and then reached into the pouch to sink my fingers into my coffin dirt. It was unnaturally hot and damp, and it moved and shifted of its own accord, pressing against my fingers like a cat rubbing against its owner’s shins when it was hungry. My fingers began to tingle, and I shivered nostalgically. I scooped up a hot handful. Then I pulled my hand out for everyone to see the faint green glow emanating from within the steaming, pitch black soil. Nero watched from the side, licking his lips as he stared intently past Eve’s—

  I shot him a dirty look and he blushed, shifting his attention from her bared breasts to the very important and complicated vampire magic. “Here we go,” I murmured, holding my hand a foot above the grass.

  I dropped the dirt and it hit the ground like a full swing from a blacksmith’s hammer, sinking an inch into the grass with a puff of green vapor. The gentle breeze instantly ceased.

  The grass around it began to wither and decay, blackening as it slowly spread. The Nephilim gasped, but I ignored them. I quickly extended my claws and sliced into my palm, holding my palm up so they could see how I did it.

  Then I clenched my hand into a fist—careful to keep my blood from touching the coffin dirt—and dribbled a thick bloody ring around it, making sure not to leave any gaps. “Ambrogio,” I said in a cool tone, not consciously choosing to do so. The coffin dirt let out a dull thump and sunk another inch into the earth. A pool of green fog appeared within the shallow grave.

  I felt the magic in my blood begin to sing, humming like a struck tuning fork. I shuddered with anticipation, recognizing the faint hum. It was my home.

  Adam unsheathed his claws—great, massive daggers as big as my head—and sliced his palm. My eyes widened to see white and crimson blood pool into his hand. He carefully clenched a fist to dribble a complete circle around mine. “Ambrogio,” he said in a rumbling tone, choosing to duplicate my actions rather than my verbal instructions. Then he lifted his other hand beneath the wounded one so as to ca
tch any errant drips before they tarnished either the rings or the dirt.

  My coffin dirt let out another thump, making the very ground quake before it sunk deeper into the earth. The green fog dropped with it, instantly crackling and hissing like a fire as it flared brighter. I stared, transfixed, as another tone joined the singing within my blood, a duet.

  Eve repeated the process without error, her eyes flaring brightly. “Ambrogio,” she hissed, also cupping her hand once finished so as to protect the final design.

  The coffin dirt blazed with a roar of green flame and the ground actually jolted as the coffin dirt sunk even lower, deepening the fresh grave.

  A third, higher-pitched hum joined the singing sensation in my blood, and it seemed to dance within my very bones, making the back of my tongue tingle.

  Our concentric rings of blood steamed in the dead grass, flaring with crimson and white light.

  I licked my lips, unable to wipe the smile from my face as I extended my bleeding fist over the open grave of green fog and fire. “AMBROGIO!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, clenching my fist tight enough for my blood to pour into the fresh grave one final time.

  38

  I hadn’t intended to say anything this time, and I definitely hadn’t anticipated Adam and Eve to join in at the exact same time—as if compelled to do so.

  Our three voices visibly blasted out ahead of us in a braided vortex, pulverizing a row of trees and sending them flying deeper into the park, the wood decaying and rotting even as it flew through the air.

  A banging sound boomed out from within the grave—like a great beast was pounding at the ground below us, begging to be freed. This had never happened before, but it felt…

  Right.

  I sensed a shrill scream from deep within the earth, separate from the desperate banging sound—something fighting against my call. I snarled furiously.

  Dracula had heard me knocking on his door and was fighting back.

  “AMBROGIO!” the three of us snarled in unbidden unison, loud enough to strain our vocal chords. This time, the braided vortex of power born from our combined shouts made the very air ripple and distort in a retaliatory shriek. I shoved both of my claws deep into the fresh grave, my arms sinking all the way to my elbows, until I latched onto an ice-cold bar of familiar, ancient metal.